


Lost and Found

by Imtrouble, NathanielCardeu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Explicit Language, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Miscarriage, Romance, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 185,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imtrouble/pseuds/Imtrouble, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathanielCardeu/pseuds/NathanielCardeu
Summary: Theo is the Wizarding World’s reluctant darling, thanks to a breakthrough in the realm of healing magic. Hermione has recently joined the Spell Damage Research team, and leapt straight into his heart. Their romance sets the media alight with rumours and speculation, the pair trying to just be themselves and learn about each other, despite the attention.Not everyone is pleased with their burgeoning love, and several people make their feelings on the relationship and the lovers themselves known. But someone takes their displeasure further, and when one of the young couple goes missing it starts a frantic manhunt to find them.Who has committed this crime, and to what end? Is the lost person kept alive, or are they already dead and their body disposed of? How long should the Aurors search before they have to admit that they are no longer looking for a living person? How long will it take before hope fades in the one left behind, and the logical option is to think about moving on? Even if the lost one is found alive, will they still be the same person after everything they have gone through, able to function in society once more?Will the perpetrator ever be caught, or will they strike again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A collaboration between the twin masters of secrecy: Imtrouble and Nathaniel Cardeu  
> Written for the Hermione Granger Big Bang 2018, through Hermione's Haven.
> 
> Runner up in the Hermione's Haven Awards 2019 - Best Epic/Long Fic
> 
> Ably assisted by the Mistress of Cheerleaders: Shinigamioni, and the Grammar-Nazi and Artist of Awesomeness: GaeilgeRua. Thank you for all your help, and especially for all the pretties!
> 
> We came up with this story idea about 4-5 years ago and finally managed to drag it out of 'WiP Purgatory', when challenged to write a 50k word story. Well, this ran away with us, went off on several different, unforeseen tangents, and generally left us pulling our hair out... But we love it, and hope that you do too!
> 
> Comments, thoughts, predictions, reactions, constructive criticism etc are all very welcome!  
> This is our baby and we are very needy authors that like to know if our meandering waffle is enjoyable!
> 
> Now, sit back and relax... Our story starts with the most important character in the tale...

_The shouts and laughter of children drifted on the air, reaching the bird as she flicked her wings. Her feathers puffed up as she looked around from her perch on the colourful, twinkling lights that were strung in zigzags across the wide street, swaying in the breeze. There were hundreds of lights that were sparkling from the boughs of the giant green tree, in the centre of the square. The racket being made by the band underneath filled the air with the sounds of trumpets, horns, and drums. The crowd sang along to the seasonal songs, just as they always did at this time of year._

 

_The pigeon knew that there would be scraps of food to be had later, but she was full at the moment. With a flick and an ungainly flap, she took to the air, heading for home._

 

_Alighting on the corrugated roof, she strutted across the ridges to the rusted hole. Dust drifted serenely through the air within, lit by a spear of winter sunlight shining through the broken roof. The pigeon pushed through the gap, cooing and fluttering as she walked along the wooden roof beam. Her mate called a greeting before hopping off the nest and out of the roof, the two nearly grown chicks following him outside. They huddled and hunched against the chill wind, watching with impatient jealousy as their father flew off to gather food._

 

_The pigeon preened her filthy wings, trying in vain to get the London grime out of them. Head on one side she gave a cursory glance at the only other occupant of the large warehouse._

 

_They hadn’t moved. Still sat in the chair with that sack over their head. Their limbs were bound to the chair with rope. Old blood stains decorated their ripped clothing, and several nasty cuts were visible through the tears. They slumped forward, as much as the bindings would allow, their breathing shallow._

 

_In her own, tiny-brained way the pigeon wondered at this human occupant. They had been here forever, certainly since she had started nesting here; sometimes in the chair, sometimes laid down, occasionally stood. The pigeon had laid two separate clutches of eggs, hatched them, raised the squabs, and watched the first pair leave the nest. It wouldn’t be long till her second brace of young were ready to fly too. She had already laid another two eggs and expected to watch them hatch and fledge, with this human still down there. Always tied with ropes, always bleeding. The coppery smell made her uncomfortable, but the nest seemed safe up here._

 

_The human was visited each day by another one. The pigeon didn’t like to be around when that one turned up and abandoned the nest during those times. She never knew if her eggs or babies would still be there when she returned, but she couldn’t remain in the warehouse._

 

_She hated all the screaming._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we've been mean enough to make you wait two days for the first *real* chapter. Release schedule will be every 3rd day, starting from now (so chapter 2 will post on Tuesday 31/07/18. Hope the teaser whet your appetite for the next 30+ chapters. I know that we are both eagerly awaiting your thoughts and feedback. So, enough waffle... enjoy x

**Chapter 1:**

 

**_18 months earlier…_ **

 

**May**

 

“You okay, mate? You look a bit green.”

 

He didn't look around, his attention almost entirely on the complicated ties that secured the expensive dress robes. “Fine, mate. Just peachy!”

 

“Well hurry up! Ceremony starts in twenty minutes, and if I'm not there to watch her walk down the aisle then she, her mother, or one of the other eight hundred fire-haired family members will strangle me!”

 

He grinned at that, glancing in the mirror and noting the sheen of sweat on his friend’s dark skin; there were a lot of people on the bride's side in attendance. “Don't worry. Two minutes, okay?”

 

“You're the one who looks worried, and  _ I'm _ the groom! How does that work? Why are  _ you _ bricking it?”

 

“Two minutes! And blot, for the love of Merlin, otherwise your makeup will run!” he quipped.

 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” his friend muttered walking towards the door and exiting.

 

After the door had closed, he turned back to the mirror, no longer pretending to tie the robes. He'd been ready for ten minutes and was now just psyching himself up for what was to follow.

 

“You can do it!” he said to the pale man, with the dark, worried-looking eyes in the mirror. He ran a hand through his short brown hair, rubbed his eyes, leant forward, and tried again. “Come on, believe it, Theo! It's just a kiss, you've kissed girls before, you can kiss this one too!”

 

The only problem was, he’d never felt this way about a girl before...

 

Theodore Nott had had a crazy few years. In the space of twelve short months, he had gone from a regular guy to the Wizarding world’s poster boy. 

 

He wasn't sure he entirely liked that part of his fame, to be honest. He had never wanted everyone’s attention on him, and now he could barely go anywhere without being hounded by the press. 

 

As his popularity soared, he often joked with Draco about how he now felt sorry for Harry Potter. It was a bit of an inside joke between the two since Draco worked with Harry and actually got on okay with him. It had been difficult not to integrate with the old Gryffindors now that Blaise, Theo's best friend, was engaged to Ginny Weasley. 

 

Theo had gotten caught up in wedding preparations, which he had suspected would be as boring as hell, but he had been surprised and pleasantly so. He had found himself falling for Ginny's maid of honour. Though, to be fair, they had been skirting around each other for months.   
  


He had been working in the Spell Damage Research Office for four years and for the first three of them working on the project that catapulted him to the fame he still had trouble adjusting to. He had spent last year trying to immerse himself back into work despite everyone telling him he really did not need to work anymore. That wasn't an option for Theo; he loved what he did, and he certainly couldn't manage to live the playboy lifestyle, he wasn't Draco, who somehow managed to work full time and still be the media’s darling in his limited spare time.   
  


For the three years he had worked there, they had never had a new employee join, yet six months ago along came Hermione Granger. Theo had met her a few times at events thrown by Ginny and Blaise, but their communication up until then had been brief hellos, smiles and goodbyes. She had usually spent her time with Potter and Weasley, and he had surrounded himself with Malfoy and Zabini.    
  


He had been struck straight away by how pretty she was, she had certainly grown into her looks, and she also seemed quiet and shy. This was not how he remembered her being back in school. He was sure she had been bossy and outspoken most of the time. He certainly didn't remember her blushing when he caught her gaze across the office. He became intrigued by her and made excuses to walk past her desk, at this point they had barely spoken more than a couple of words to each other and yet he found he wanted to be near her. It had taken him two weeks to work up the courage to follow her to the water cooler one day and strike up a conversation.   
  


"Hello, Hermione, I'm Theo." He had offered his hand.   
  


"I know who you are, Mister Nott." She had smiled, allowing her hand to slip into his.   
  


He had almost forgotten to shake it, lost in the smooth feel of her skin against his. When he had recalled himself, he ended up shaking it rather ferociously. He hadn't missed the small smirk on her face as she had extracted her hand from his.   
  


"How are you settling in?" He realised his voice was a little too loud and moderated his tone. “All okay?”   
  


"Fine, thank you, it's a very different job to what I was doing before, but I'm sure it’s only a matter of time before I find my feet here."   
  


"I'm sure it won't take you long, you always were the genius at school!"   
  


"Well, I don't know about genius. I can hardly compare to your achievements, after all, Mister Nott, I was very impressed with your work. I did some reading up on it before I came here; it truly is a magnificent discovery."

 

"Thank you; people seem to forget that that’s what I've worked on and tend to just want to know all the personal aspects of my life now. Honestly, I find it all a bit disconcerting, although it's not without its advantages." He had smirked, thinking about some of those perks. He had recently been sent the latest Firebolt broom, just because the brand wanted to be associated with him; the editor of Witch Weekly had given him weekend tickets to a spa in France; Blishens had sent him a case of several different blends of their finest firewhisky. He also thought back on the Minister of Magic himself, inviting him into the Minister’s box for the Quidditch World Cup that had just taken place. There were definitely some perks. He hadn't hated  _ that _ part of his fame.

 

He had looked away from Hermione with a big grin on his face just as the pretty blonde from accounts brushed past him and gave him a flirtatious wink. He had sighed inwardly at that.   
  


It was surprising what a bit of money, and some column inches in the papers could do for a single man's love life if that's what you wanted. He hadn't, however, partaken in anything with any of them. He had been tempted—he was a man, after all—but he had known that he would never be happy with any one of them. He prided himself on waiting for the right woman. He had had his fair share of bad relationships, and after the last disastrous one, he had decided to wait for Miss Right to come along.   
  


His heart sank as he turned back to Hermione and watched her clock the witch. She had married up what he had just said and believed he enjoyed the women who threw themselves at him on a daily basis.   
  


He had glanced from Hermione to the blonde, and back to Hermione's knowing look.   
  


"No, Merlin, no! I don't mean that at all, Hermione. That's not who I am."    
  


He remembered realising that he needed to shut up before he got down on his knees and pleaded for her to believe him. She was turning him into a mess.   
  


"I'm sure fame has as many perks as it does pitfalls, Mister Nott."   
  


"Please, call me Theo," he had almost begged her.   
  


"Okay. Well, I need to get back to work. Hope you enjoy those... perks, Theo."

 

He’d watched her eyes flick towards the door, where the blonde had disappeared, knowing that Theo's office was that way. With that, she had sauntered away from him.   
  


Over the following weeks he had found every excuse to spend time with her, from stolen moments at the water cooler, timing his arrival at work to the time she got in so they could walk to the office together and he began to notice he wasn't the only one trying to make excuses to spend time together. She had come over to his desk one day and asked him for directions to the Auror office! He had called her out on it straight away.   
  


"Doesn't Harry work in the Auror Office?"   
  


"Oh, umm, yes he does."   
  


"And Ron?"   
  


"Yes."   
  


"And you've never visited either of them at work before?"   
  


"Well, of course, I have," she had bristled, "just not from  _ this _ side of the Ministry before."   
  


"Okay, I'll show you."   
  


"Oh, you don't have to do that, just tell me the way," she had flustered.   
  


"No, no, what kind of guy would I be, if I couldn't actually show you," he insisted, inwardly grinning at her discomfort.   
  


"Oh, okay," she had replied, with a resigned look on her face.   
  


He had enjoyed immensely watching her try to find something to say to Harry when they arrived at the Auror office. He hadn't missed the looks some of the other Aurors sent her way as she walked in too; Adrian Pucey seemed on the verge of speaking, and two others that he didn't know had visibly straightened their robes. He had just been pleased to know he wasn't the only one affected by the presence of one Hermione Granger. He had also been ecstatic to know that, despite his earlier set back from the ‘perks’ fiasco, he seemed to affect her as much as she affected him.   
  


This behaviour between them had carried on for a couple of months; he had even knocked it up a notch one day when he saw an opportunity to squeeze up beside her in a pretty full lift. He hadn't missed her small gasp as he brushed against her and then stood directly behind her all the way to the top floor of the Ministry. After that, he had made it his mission to do little things for her as much as possible, without becoming overbearing. Small acts of kindness to make her day brighter, coming in early and having her coffee ready when she arrived, a couple of times where he managed to pre-empt her desire for some new stationery by seeing what was running low on her desk and getting refills for her before she knew she needed them. His personal favourite had been a little more physical; an opportunity to help pick her up when she tripped over one day. He had managed to hold her against him for a few seconds. It had been the highlight of his week!   
  


She was doing crazy things to him, and they had barely spoken in any meaningful way.   
  


They had gone out one evening with Blaise and Ginny and some of their other friends, to celebrate their impending wedding. The couple had asked Theo to be Best Man and Hermione to be Maid of Honour. Theo could have sung out loud. It had meant they would need to work together to help their friends’ big day go off without a hitch. It had meant he actually now had a chance outside of work to be around her and get to know her.   
  


They had gone to a nightclub after the meal—Draco’s wayward idea of fun—and Theo had been mobbed as soon as he had walked inside. He had glanced over towards Hermione as a blonde tried to drape herself over him. He had watched her face fall, and she had avoided him for the rest of the night, much to his frustration. He had realised that she still thought he was a player but also knew she was at least a little interested in him too; he just had to persuade her to believe he was only interested in her.   
  


The last three months had been spent meeting up every couple of weeks with the Bride and Groom-to-be and making plans for the wedding. Hermione had also suggested meeting once a week to go over anything they needed to do together for the wedding. She had proposed that they could meet for lunch during the day, but Theo had told her he was too busy and after work would be a much better idea. The downside meant he had had to look like he was working every bloody lunchtime, but when he met her in a quiet little Muggle pub once a week after work, it more than made up for it. They had talked wedding things and then each time they had stayed a little later than the time before, just talking and getting to know each other.   
  


He thought she was wonderful; she was funny, witty and brilliantly sarcastic. The banter between them was great fun. He realised she wasn't shy at all; she had just been playing it coy. He knew she liked him… well, he was pretty sure, but she wasn't prepared to join the countless women who tried to jump him every time he walked into Diagon Alley.   
  


He had liked her even more for that.   
  


When he found himself stood at the Rehearsal Dinner for Blaise and Ginny's big day, he had smiled over at Hermione. He knew they had worked well as a team and everything had gone off without a hitch. They just had to do the dance rehearsal, and then they were free until the following day. They had agreed they would go out later that evening for a celebratory drink, back to their little Muggle pub, which had become one of his favourite places now.   
  


A tiny little witch, stood up on the stage, had asked all the participating wedding party members to make their way to the dance floor for the dance practice. He had made his way onto the floor, his eyes never leaving Hermione and when she caught him looking, he saw that blush that had called out to him on that very first day.   
  


When he took her in his arms, and the music started, he knew he was lost to her. He wanted her more than he had wanted anything in his entire life. He knew he would trade all his money and fame for time to freeze in that moment. He had looked down at her, and he had seen the smile on her face.   
  


He had wanted to kiss her. He wasn’t the sort to give in to the more physical displays of affection; things like hugs and kisses had been practically nonexistent in his home life growing up, but she made him want something more, to give her more than practical things as a token of his esteem. Before he had the chance, he had felt a hand on his shoulder.   
  


"May I cut in?” Harry said, ruining Theo's moment. “My bridesmaid just ran crying from the room, and if I don't practice these steps before tomorrow, then Ginny might actually kill me. Well, I say Ginny, I think the chances are Molly might get there first."   
  


"Please tell me you haven't fucked the bridesmaid, Harry?" Hermione asked, moving away from Theo.   
  


He had nearly cried out at the loss of her in his arms, her crude language both shocking and exciting him. His mind had entertained the thought of her using those dirty words for him in private.   
  


"I might have... But hey, I’m single and so is she. She was well aware I wasn't looking for anything serious."   
  


"Harry Potter, the serial heartbreaker and my best friend." Hermione had smirked at Theo, before allowing Harry to take her in his arms and waltz her away.   
  


That ended up being the last time he saw her that night as Ginny decided she wanted all her bridesmaids to stay the night at hers.   
  


As Theo had sat round the fire later that evening with Blaise, Marcus, and Draco, chatting and sipping firewhisky, he had made a promise to himself that during the wedding’s first dance he would kiss her and chance it all.   
  


~~~   
  


The previous night had dragged like time had never dragged before. He hadn't slept well because he was so hyped up about the following day and what he intended to do. He was worried what her reaction might be, whether he had read all the signs correctly or whether she might actually kick him in the balls as soon as his lips left hers. Or maybe even before. He wasn't sure he liked that kind of foreplay.   
  


He knew she still thought he was enjoying certain 'perks' of his fame. He hadn't had a moment to really show her otherwise but he had hoped she would have sensed it in all the time they had now spent together.    
  


At six that morning, after a few unsatisfactory cat naps, he had given up on trying to get any more sleep. For Theo, at least, the Zabini-Weasley wedding day had begun.   
  


It was a beautifully sunny day, he noted, as he stepped out of the room where the groomsmen had been getting ready, and Theo couldn't help but smile when he saw the nervous look on his best friend’s face. 

 

“Looks like  _ you _ could do with two minutes now, mate!”

 

“Shut up, Nott, I'm allowed to be nervous! I'm the groom... about to lay aside any future first dates, one night stands, and spend the rest of my life with one woman. The most amazing woman who has put any of those firsts to shame, sure! But hey, I can still be nervous right?”

 

Before Theo had a chance to reply, Blaise was called away by a flapping Molly Wesley.

 

He looked forward to when he could make this commitment to the woman he loved, whoever she might be. Though right now he was gunning for Granger. He smirked at the thought as he made his way over to the wedding marquee.    
  


The day passed by in a blur in the end, and the only thing Theo really remembered was the exact moment he saw Hermione follow Ginny down the aisle. She looked stunning. He had almost forgotten to look at the bride.    
  


"She looks beautiful doesn't she?" Blaise had whispered to him.   
  


"Yes, yes she does." He hadn't been talking about Ginny even though she also looked amazing.   
  


The bridesmaids, including Luna and Ginny’s sister-in-law, Fleur, were wearing chiffon teal coloured dresses. The material looked like it was floating around each woman. Hermione's hair had fallen in soft ringlets, and he had had the biggest desire to run his fingers through it. Still did if he was honest, even if it had started to frizz up a little in the heat.    
  


She had smiled at him when she caught his stare. He had smiled back and forced himself to look away and focus on his own duties. His desire to kiss her had only increased tenfold.    
  


The ceremony didn't last long, and as he followed the grinning bride and groom he had his own stupid grin etched on his face, Hermione's arm linked with his, leading her back down the aisle. Dinner, speeches, and cake followed, and before he knew it, the first dance was upon them. He watched Blaise lead Mrs Zabini onto the floor, then made his way to Hermione who was stood on the opposite side of the dance floor, next to Ron and Harry.

If Potter interrupted him this time, he swore he would kill him, and do it worse than Molly Weasley ever could.   
  


"I think it's time for us to join the dance, Hermione," he said, smiling as he saw goose bumps rise on her skin.   
  


He took her small hand in his and pulled her gently behind him. He breathed a sigh as he took her into his arms and she moulded herself into him.   
  


For a few moments, they just swayed gently in each other's arms, the rest of the world forgotten. As the song neared its crescendo, he whispered her name.   
  


She looked up at him, and he wanted to remember the way she looked at him forever; a hint of shyness and hope mixed in her gaze.   
  


Before he could stop himself, or she could question him, he bent his head and took her lips with his. It was soft at first—he didn't want to scare her—but as she didn't appear to be resisting he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping along her bottom lip, begging entrance. If this was the only time he got to do this, he wanted to make it count. He wanted to be able to replay this memory over and over again. She tasted sweet against his tongue like she had been eating sugar. He was pleased when her hands fisted in his shirt, and her tongue met his with equal fervour.   
  


All too soon they were breaking apart, gasping for air and letting the world back in around them. Theo heard a cat call from Zabini and grimaced. He looked down at Hermione, waiting for her response to what he had done.   
  


"Bit forward, Mister Nott."   
  


Theo laughed. “In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. Worst that could happen would be you’d kick me in the nuts… and I’ve seen how you look at me.”   
  


Hermione just laughed at that, pulling him away from the dance floor and the staring eyes.

  
  
He couldn't help but see the smirk that Zabini gave him, and then the high five that he gave his new bride as she smiled at the pair of them. A flash of annoyance swept over Ginny's face as Draco said something, and Blaise frowned, casually swatting the blond man on the arm.  Ignoring the altercation, he focused on the woman beside him. "Hermione, I want to take you out, properly," he murmured in her ear as she dragged him further away.   
  


They finally stopped by the table they had sat at for the meal, a fair distance away from the dance floor. Hermione picked up a glass of champagne, downing it in one.    
  


"Well, I guess that works on the other girls that are the perks of fame, but I refuse to be just another conquest. Although that was a very nice kiss."   
  


"Hermione,” he moaned, “you still think so little of me? I can assure you there  _ are _ no conquests. I'd be happy to show you my notch free bed posts!"    
  


"You're inviting me to see your bed already, Mister Nott?" she asked, casually picking up the glass of champagne at the place setting next to her, and smirking as his face fell.    
  


"No, no, that's not what I meant! I just want you to know that I don't invite just  _ anyone _ into my bedroom."   
  


"You just invited me."   
  


"You're not anyone," he pleaded.    
  


"Wow, you know how to charm a girl, Theo." She calmly sipped her glass, eyeing him over the rim, enjoying his discomfort.    
  


"Not what I meant!" He ran his hand through his hair, agitated at how this conversation was turning. This was why he usually avoided the more obvious methods of flirting. He was terrible  at it!   
  


He caught sight of Harry out of the corner of his eye, walking past with two women dangling off his arms.   
  


She hadn't missed it either. "I've told you, Theo," she said, nodding towards Harry, "I've seen the perks fame brings, and I'm not willing to be your flavour of the week."   
  


"I'm not like Harry Potter!" he almost shouted, regretting his tone of voice as soon as he'd said it. People were staring at them again.   
  


Before Theo could apologise, Harry shouted, "You could emulate worse people, Nott!"

 

"Oh, sweet Merlin...."

 

Hermione finally took pity on him. Laughing, she spoke with an American cowboy accent. "What we’ve got here is failure to communicate!”

 

His confusion must have shown on his face because she giggled. Controlling her amusement, she said, "I'm winding you up, Theo. I've been waiting for you to ask me for weeks." A wicked gleam appeared in her eyes. “Now, about those bed posts of yours…”

  
Before he was able to say anything, he found her lips back on his. As he drank her in, he could think of nothing else he wished to spend his life doing! 

  
~~~   
  


The following morning he lay in his bed like he did most Sunday mornings. This Sunday held one major difference: he wasn’t alone. He lay on his side, gazing at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

 

Hermione slept peacefully beside him, one hand pillowing her head, her hair looking slightly more mussed than usual.

 

They had left the wedding not long after that second kiss, Blaise and Ginny almost pushing them out the door as they went over to say their goodbyes. He had offered to take her to a hotel, but she had giggled and told him that she wanted to see his notch free bedposts. He hadn’t argued, remembering their arrival at his house very fondly.

 

They had almost crashed through his front door, not bothering with the lights, her hands already grabbing his robes in the dark hallway and pulling his mouth to hers. They had giggled a little as she pushed him against the wall, Theo giving a grunt of pain as his head connected. He was sure he'd have a bruise there. Turning to press her against the wall they realised, quite suddenly, that they were by the open archway that led to the lounge. Toppling through with a startled cry the pair landed on the floor in a cackling heap. After assuring him she was okay Hermione had attacked his clothes again, her mouth never leaving his. Finding the ties on his robes far too complicated in their frantic clinch, she had simply severed them with a breath of wandless magic.

 

“I'll repair them later!” she had promised, already tugging at the sundered material.

 

Slipping out of the robes Theo had half carried her to the sofa, smothering her neck and throat with kisses. Her moans had spurred him on, and they had dropped into the seat with Hermione in his lap. With drunken abandon he had slid his hands up her legs, noting with pleasure the stockings and suspenders underneath. The dress had got stuck around her body as he peeled off her knickers. It took a few minutes of amused struggling to unzip the dress enough to free her.

 

“Not here… bed!” she moaned into his mouth, and he had obliged, lifting and carrying her up the stairs. Her dress had been caught between them, hampering his exploration of her body and she had bashed her head on the top of the archway. After another few moments of howling laughter, they decided that she would walk rather than risk one of them getting a concussion.

 

They had finally reached the bedroom and managed to undress each other without further incident, taking their time and enjoying every part of the other. The sight of her gripping those bedposts she had heard so much about, as his tongue explored every part of her, had been every bit as erotic as he had expected. Her arched back as he gripped her thighs and tasted her; her shuddering moans as she came apart under his insistent fingers; the sight of her rising above him in the moonlight, breasts bouncing as she rose and fell on his cock; the feel of her mouth as she sucked him back to life again.

 

The night had been spent wrapped up in each other, from more moments of laughter to hours spent lost in a heat and passion that Theo had never experienced before. He reckoned they had finally fallen asleep somewhere around four in the morning. Glancing over at the clock, he saw it was still early. Part of him wanted to wake her, most of him wanted to join her back in slumber. 

 

He was just drifting off when there was a sudden clattering at his front door. He glanced over at Hermione who merely stirred. He hurriedly scrambled out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown from behind the door. He half ran down the stairs to the front door before the incessant knocking started again. 

 

“Morning, old chap! What are you still doing sleeping? You're never in bed at this time of morning! Not hungover are you?”

 

Before Theo could stop him, Draco pushed past him into the living room. 

 

“I mean it's usually you waiting on me, and…”

 

Theo watched as his friend saw the trail of clothes he and Hermione had left from the living room and up the stairs. 

 

“I…”

 

“You hooked up! Good work, Nott! Now please, dear Merlin, tell me it was a hot, pure-blooded witch? Zabini had loads of single women at his wedding. You could do with a quick fling to clear your head, open you up to something more serious. Just tell me it wasn't bloody Granger? I do not know  _ what _ your obsession with her is!”

 

“Sadly, Malfoy, it  _ was _ with ‘bloody Granger’!” she said, stood on the stairs. “Not sure how you missed it at the wedding, to be honest. Were you in a cupboard somewhere with one of those hot, pure-blooded witches?”

 

Theo had spotted Hermione coming out of the bedroom with his shirt on whilst Draco was mid-rant. Apparently, the ‘shut up’ look on his face hadn’t been enough to deter Malfoy. He conceded that the look might have come across muddled, as he was also trying to control the urge to push Draco out of the way and ravish the woman who looked sensational in his clothes with her slightly mussed up hair. 

 

“Hermione… you’re awake!”

 

“Granger,” Draco sneered over at Theo, “what a pleasant surprise. Decided Potter or Weasley aren't enough for you? Decided it's time to start on the Slytherins?”

 

He could see Hermione gearing up to retaliate, and moved across to stand between the pair of them. 

 

“What did you come over for, Draco?”

 

“Well, Theo, if you recall it's Sunday… and usually every Sunday the three of us have brunch over in Camden where we mock Zabini for being a whipped little house bitch. But maybe, someone forgot this week?”

 

“I'll get my things and leave you to it, Theo.” The cold tone of her voice cut through him, and before he could say anything, Draco cut in. 

 

“Yes, good idea, Granger.” He sauntered over to the sofa. “And I, err, think these might be yours? Unless Nott has slightly more esoteric tastes these days?” Theo’s head whipped around from watching Hermione head back upstairs, to where Draco now sat with his fingers holding up a black, lacy set of knickers.

 

Theo had taken pleasure in removing those, mere hours ago. He hurried over to Draco and snatched the offending lace from his hands. “What are you playing at?” he hissed, quiet anger in his voice. “You know how long I've liked her! I need  _ you _ to leave, not her! I thought it would have been obvious we wouldn't be meeting today, what with it being the first day of Blaise’s honeymoon.”

 

Draco gave him an exasperated look. “And?  _ We _ can still have brunch and laugh about it, can't we? I quite like it when it’s just the two of us, you know?”

 

“Why don't you have hangovers like a normal person! I saw you putting it away like a trooper yesterday.”

 

“Surprised you noticed, Nott. Every time I saw you, you were making googly eyes at Granger,” he snapped back.

 

Theo could hear Hermione coming back down the corridor. 

 

“I need you to go, Draco, now. Don't ruin this any more than you already have done! Sweet Merlin, what's wrong with you?”

 

“Well, you know me, Theo, I never miss an opportunity to wind Granger up!”

 

With that, the blond stood and made his way towards the front door. Hands in his pockets, he stopped and watched Hermione, wearing her bridesmaid dress again, coming down the stairs.

 

“The walk of shame suits you, Granger,” he said with an arrogant sneer. He opened the door and stepped through, pausing with the door partly closed. “Oh, and nice knickers. I kind of had you down as the sort to own something that trashy.”

 

The door slammed shut, leaving a furious Gryffindor and a Slytherin in despair. 

 

~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware! Beyond this point are awkward conversations, Dad jokes and Fluff!

“So,” she drawled slowly, running a finger around the rim of her wine glass, “mocking Blaise for his relationship? A regular talking point for you free and single playboys, hmm?”

 

Theo grinned nervously, taking a swallow of his own wine as her brown eyes stared into his. He could tell she was still annoyed about this morning. He was going to murder Draco when he saw him next! Sure, they had ribbed Blaise about the times he had cancelled their plans together because he was seeing Ginny instead, or had said he needed to check with her before he agreed to something, but that was just the way they were together! It was the stupid banter between good friends. Personally, Theo wanted nothing more than to have the kind of solid relationship the pair had, wanted it more than anything! He was insanely jealous of what Blaise had with Ginny. Months of being touted as the hottest commodity, in rags like Witch Weekly alongside Draco, was wearing him out. All the girls that wanted nothing more than to bed someone famous… He was sure that none of them had any interest in him as a person, just that he had headlines dedicated to him.

 

_ She _ , however, Hermione wanted him because of who he was. At least that was his impression on the matter; one backed up by her reluctance to date him in the first place. Now he had her though, he wanted to make sure he didn't blow this. As painful or embarrassing as it might be, honesty was going to be the best policy with Hermione Granger.

 

He smiled, feeling his nerves settle as he made that decision. “Yes,” he said with a cheeky smile at the surprise in her eyes. “Why would I not needle my best friend about throwing away his bachelor life and settling down? It's what we do as blokes.” He shrugged.

 

“Huh,” she grunted, clearly not expecting that comment.

 

“Look, what us lads say to each other in a social setting should always be taken with a pinch of salt.”

 

“‘Many a truth is said in jest.’”

 

“Maybe so, but for me? I'll be honest; I'm a little bit jealous of what Blaise has. Draco may find the concept of monogamy distasteful, but I can't wait to have what Blaise does.” He took a swallow of his wine, gazing at her over the rim of his glass. Inside he was surprised at being able to be this open with her.

 

“So, you mock what you want most?”

 

“Indirectly, yes. Merlin forbid a man expresses a desire for a wife and children to his close friends.”

 

“Seems a bit Neanderthal to me.”

 

“Of course it is! That's what red-blooded man is, for the most part, especially among others of his kind.”  _ And those with family issues _ , he thought to himself. “But! Strip it back to its core, and you'll find a man that wants that companionship more than anything for himself, and sometimes will even confess as much to  his closest friends in privacy.”

 

“Even Malfoy?”

 

Theo laughed. “Oh no, Draco is having far too much fun still, even now. He's living wild ever since he got out from under his parents’ shadow and control, and from what happened during the war. It's a relatively reasonable response, I guess, though it is wearing a little thin for me personally.”

 

“‘Reasonable’? He needs help if that's his attitude! It's not sustainable, and if you stop being his wingman because we're an item, there's no telling what will happen!”

 

Theo raised an eyebrow at that, smiling as her cheeks heated as she realised what she had said. “We're an item already, are we? Part of me feels like I should be worried about how fast this is moving, Miss Granger. I mean, you drag me from my best friend's wedding and have your wicked way with me, before we've had a proper date. And even on our first date, you're already seeing us as an item. Are you sure you're not after me for my fame?”

 

She tried to cool her cheeks with more wine and cleared her throat. “Whilst I appreciate your assistance in scratching an itch I had yesterday, I would hardly call that cause for concern about your reputation as a perpetual bachelor!”

 

“Have you not told me, many times in fact, that witches are only after me for the large column inches I carry around with me? Were you perhaps diverting attention away from your own grab for my inches?”

 

She gave a snort of laughter. “Yes, well, those column inches are not as spectacular as rumour would have had me believe!”

 

“Oh, so that’s the level we’re stooping to now, eh? Got what you wanted and then insulting a man’s reputation? I expected better of you, Miss Granger!” His eyes danced with mirth. “Especially when you were perfectly happy with those column inches, and rather vocal about your delight last night, taking it…”

 

“Yes, alright, thank you!” Hermione cried, fanning herself with the menu. “You seem to have a way of making a girl a little hot under the collar, Mister Nott.”

 

“So I see,” he said, finishing his wine. “Don’t be expecting last night to be something that occurs again too soon, though. I don’t fancy just being a trophy for you to hang on your arm and parade in front of the Witch Weekly readers simply to inflate your own fame!” Her offended gasp was very satisfying.

 

Whatever she had been about to say was stopped by a strange tinkling sound. Theo frowned, looking around for the source of the noise. Hermione dug around in her pocket and, still glaring at him, pulled a small grey box out. To Theo’s surprise, the witch put the box up to her ear.

 

“Mum! Hi, how are… Mum? What’s wrong?”

 

Theo watched in concern as her hand lifted to her mouth, her eyes wide and glistening. He had no idea what that Muggle device was, but it was clearly allowing her to talk to her mother, and whatever she was saying wasn't good.

 

“Yes, yes, of course! I'll be there right away! Tell him I love him, please! I love you too, see you soon,” she finished, her voice choked. She lowered the little box to her lap.

 

“Hermione, what's happened?”

 

“It's my dad. He's been rushed into hospital… mum thinks he had a heart attack.”

 

~~~

 

The journey to the hospital had been a bit of a blur to Hermione; she remembered Theo's concerned words, her intention to get to her father's side immediately, but everything else was this sort of panic tinged grey of words and sensations until she fell into her mum's arms.

 

Now, an hour later, she sat at her dad’s bedside, holding his pale hand in her smaller one. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes were dry once more. Her other hand was clasped in her mum's as they watched the normally strong man on the bed before them simply breathe in his sleep.

 

Her mum had explained what had happened - “He was sweeping the yard like he does every Sunday when I heard him give this funny little grunt. I heard the broom clatter to the floor and looked out the window to see him leaning against the wall, holding his chest. Then he just collapsed!” - and now they were waiting for the test results to come back.

 

A quiet sound at the entrance to the room brought Mrs Granger’s attention round. Theo stepped into the room, holding a small wooden tray with three large, steaming mugs on it. “Thought you guys might like a drink,” he said quietly.  “Sorry, Mrs Granger, I didn't know if you preferred coffee or tea…”

 

“Oh, thank you very much,” said Mrs Granger with a warm smile. “Black tea would be lovely if you have one.”

 

“Ah, the correct way to drink it,” Theo smiled and glanced around. Balancing the tray in one hand, he snuck his wand from his pocket and tapped one of the mugs. It gave a pop and vanished, a different mug appearing in its place. “Here you go,” he said, offering the tray for her to take the drink. “I got you a coffee, Hermione.”

 

“Oh!” Mrs Granger's eyebrows rise as she took the mug. “You're a, uh…” She lowered her voice. “A wizard, yes? I didn't know that Hermione had spoken to anyone from the wizarding hospital… there's really no need to worry… Sorry, dear, I thought you were one of the nurses here!”

 

Theo smiled in confusion as Hermione gave a cry. “Oh my God, Theo! I'm so sorry; I forgot you were here…” She flushed heavily and cleared her throat. “Mum, this is Theo Nott. Theo, my mum, Jean Granger.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Granger,” he said with a smile as Hermione squirmed with embarrassment. “I can see where Hermione gets her good looks from.”

 

Jean Granger gave a pleased smile at Theo's compliment, then turned to frown at her daughter. “Hermione! You mean this nice young man came here with you, and he's been sat out in the waiting room, alone?”

 

Theo laughed as Hermione nodded. “It's fine, Mrs Granger, honestly.”

 

“Please, call me Jean. And it’s not fine at all, Theo dear. Honestly, Hermione… you finally start dating the man you’ve been mooning over for the last few months, and then you just leave him in the waiting room?”

 

“MUM!” Hermione’s face was getting redder with every word.

 

“Honestly, dear, she’s done nothing but talk my ear off about you and your achievements for as long as I can remember!”

 

“Oh my God, mum! Please!”

 

Jean made a clucking noise and waved at her daughter to be quiet. “Theo, please sit with us. Hermione, drink your coffee,” she said, passing the other mug to her daughter, who ducked to take a sip. Her bright pink ears peeked through her hair as it fell forward to cover her face. Theo imagined he could feel the heat radiating off of her from where he sat.

 

“Well, she certainly got the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ part right, but I can’t see that you have an air of ‘wild playboy’ about you.” Jean lifted Theo’s chin and looked into his eyes. He felt his own cheeks heat at her frank appraisal, unsure where to look. “No, but those dark eyes of yours are definitely very nice. I can see why she likes them so much.”

 

“Oh my fucking God, please stop talking,” Hermione groaned.

 

“Should I be concerned that my wife is inspecting virile young men, while I lay on my deathbed?”

 

“Dad!” Hermione jumped up, barely avoiding spilling her coffee on Mister Granger.

 

He stirred weakly and opened his eyes, smiling good-naturedly at his wife, before hugging his daughter close. “Hullo, pumpkin, how are you?”

 

“Better for seeing you awake, daddy,” she said through her tears.

 

“My God, it must be bad news, you haven’t called me ‘daddy’ since you started at Hogwarts! Jean, call my solicitor, I need to make sure my will is all correct! I’m sure I see the light before me already… Theo! Make sure you delete my browser history before the ladies see it, and burn my laptop if the police come calling!”

 

“Oh, Robert, stop being melodramatic!” Jean laughed, her eyes slightly misted, as she stood and hugged her husband.

 

Theo stood to one side, feeling slightly awkward as the Grangers hugged and talked. He was still wondering what a ‘browser’ was, and the concept of burning the man's lap was alien. Muggles truly had some strange ideas, but he knew that his world seemed equally bizarre to them. It got him thinking, even as he tried to cautiously edge out of the room to give the family some privacy.

 

“Oi, Theo,” called Hermione when she noticed, “come back here!”

 

“Yeah, it’s fine, young man. We’re done with the mushy stuff. Pretty sure I’m not dying, no matter that my daughter appears to have regressed into an emotional wreck...” Robert winced as Hermione slapped his arm. “Ow, don’t beat up a poor invalid like me!” he said, putting on a weak voice, grinning.

 

Hermione glared at him but smiled through it. “Theo Nott, this is Robert Granger, my father, who thinks he’s funny...”

 

“I’m a great comedian, and you know it! A veritable bantersaurus rex!”

 

“Oh God, please don’t say things like that, dad… You’re not a teenager!”

 

“The Archbishop of Banterbury?”

 

“Please, don’t.”

 

“Bantonio Banderas?”

 

“Oh my God, no!”

 

“You are such a banteater, Hermione…”

 

“Dad!” She shook her head in exasperation, rolling her eyes at Theo. “He’s been watching The Inbetweeners a lot, and now thinks he’s hilarious.”

 

Theo just blinked at this, not knowing what an ‘inbetweener’ was.

 

“Dad, this is Theo Nott, my…” She blushed prettily. “Well, I guess boyfriend, though we’ve only just started seeing each other, so it may be too soon to say that… I didn’t expect you to be meeting my parents already, though obviously, I’d want you to meet them… Is it too soon? I don’t know how else to…” She stuttered to a stop as her dad rested a hand on her arm.

 

“Stop talking, pumpkin, you sound like a crazy person.”

 

Theo smiled and held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

 

Robert looked at the hand for a moment, suddenly serious, but made no move to take it. Theo awkwardly lowered his hand after a moment.

 

“Dad…” Hermione said under her breath, surprised at this.

 

“Could you let Theo and I have a little privacy for a moment, ladies?” Robert said quietly, his eyes holding Theo’s. His expression was neutral, but Theo could see a hardness in his eyes that made him swallow.

 

“Be nice, Robert,” Jean Granger said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. She patted Theo on the shoulder as she passed.

 

“Dad…”

 

“Be a good girl, and close the door after you, pumpkin.”

 

She sighed, gently squeezing his hand. “Sorry,” she whispered to Theo, lifting her face to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Good luck.”

 

The click of the door closing sounded very loud in the sudden silence, and Theo cleared his throat, uncomfortable under Mister Granger’s scrutiny.

 

“Sit down, son,” he said, breaking the tension. He looked up at the ceiling as Theo sank into the chair, recently occupied by Mrs Granger. “I don’t expect you to appreciate it fully, Mister Nott, but a father’s concern for his daughter’s welfare is something that has a habit of keeping a man awake at night.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Add into that mess that she is, in fact, more capable of making her own life decisions without referring to you, that she is part of a world that you understand only the barest percentage of and that she has suffered extreme danger and threats to her life… As you can imagine, my concern for her welfare seems rather pathetic in the grand scheme of things, when she has experienced all that and come through it in one piece.”

 

“I can see that, Mister Granger, and understand what you mean. I feel that our world… mine and the wizarding world at large, have never given the families of Muggleborn witches and wizards any real consideration…”

 

“Do you really have to use that word? Isn’t Muggle a negative term to wizarding folk?” His voice was even, but Theo could see a light of annoyance in his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry, force of habit… While the term is not derogatory in and of itself, it  _ can _ be used in that manner by those that ascribe to a prejudiced view of the world, and the matter of blood purity.”

 

“Do you always talk like that, or are you trying to impress an old man with your intellectual verbosity?”

 

Theo stammered for a moment, his train of thought temporarily derailed.

 

“You’re smart, and I can see that, so you’re not winning any brownie points for using flowery language. Moving on though, I get the impression that your views on this blood purity and prejudice have changed, and not just because you happen to be seeing my daughter.”

 

“To be honest,” Theo said, trying to keep up with the older man, “I’ve never really been comfortable with the idea that a family tree has any real bearing on a person’s standing in society.”

 

“You know about our Royal family, of course?”

 

“Yes, sir, but they generally aren’t restricted to only marry people that are royal themselves, correct? I believe there have been many occasions that a Prince or Princess has chosen from the ‘common folk’ as it were?”

 

“You know more than I was expecting, I’ll be honest.”

 

“I find the subject fascinating, sir. Those of us in the wizarding world that are ‘pureblooded’ are told that we should marry those that are of a similar standing. That narrow-minded thinking has led to intermarriage of families, cousins and so on. As you can imagine, it rarely breeds strong successors.”

 

“Same could be said about royalty in historical times.”

 

“True, but that sort of practice appears to have died out in Muggl… sorry, the non-wizarding community. It is drummed into every child that they  _ must _ marry another pureblood, even if that pureblood has many of the same family members. There have been many occasions where the children produced have not been… all there… mentally.” Theo winced, thinking of one witch in particular, knowing her connection to Hermione, and wondering if she had told her parents about Bellatrix and what she had done to her.

 

“But you don’t agree with that anymore? Why?”

 

“It was more my family’s ideals, and a young boy’s need to be accepted by his family is something he cannot fight. Not until he is old enough to make his own decisions or things… change.” Theo couldn’t stop the small sigh escape him, still feeling the conflict inside him over his family. “And at its most basic level, the thought of marrying someone who is practically a sister, because their bloodline is so close to mine…” He gave a small shudder.

 

“So what do your folks think of you shacking up with a Mudblood?”

 

Theo choked, suddenly finding his throat close up in shock that Mister Granger had used that word.

 

“Yeah, I know what you people called Hermione, which is why I’m so surprised to find another one of you sniffing around her. That Weasley boy was one of you too, wasn’t he? Pureblood?”

 

Theo thought fast, finding himself in a strange and uncharted territory with this surprisingly informed man. He knew that a Muggle dentist was a job that required a certain level of intelligence and skill, but he had not expected Hermione to have been so open with him about so much.

 

“This isn’t a test, kid,” Robert said, wryly. “This is just a friendly chat about your intentions towards my daughter that appears to have taken a rather unusual path.”

 

“It's certainly the strangest conversation I've ever had with someone's father.”

 

Robert gave a small huff. “Well, this is only the second time I've had this sort of conversation with anyone, so I guess we're both in strange waters.”

 

Theo sat forward, his face earnest. “Mister Granger, I like Hermione. Very much. I've been keen on her for some time, ever since she started working in the Spell Damage Research team.”

 

“That's right, you're the hotshot who found a cure for some nasty stuff, right.”

 

“It's not as great as that, though the papers certainly inflated the breakthrough. I merely found a… a way of looking at the problem differently.”

 

“A younger man's eyes, looking at a problem generations had thought impossible to fix? Many breakthroughs have come from that sort of thing. Don't believe what you did is so small, Theo. If your discovery helps people, you did a great thing, no matter who takes it further; you will always be the reason they did.”

 

Theo felt his face heat. “Yes, sir.”

 

“So, what  _ do _ your family think about you dating my daughter?”

 

Theo felt that strange, unexpected pang of sorrow again. “Most of my family, the extended part at least, are either in hiding or in Azkaban, the wizarding prison. They made some… very poor choices in who they put their loyalty in, to put it mildly. My immediate family are… are no longer with me.”

 

“Ahh, shit, kid,” Robert said with a grimace. “Sorry, I didn't mean to poke a wound.”

 

“No, no it's fine, sir! I never had any siblings; my parents were older when they were able to conceive, and my mother died in childbirth. While I miss her, it's more the chance to have known her that I miss. My father…? My father was a pureblood supremacist that fought with Voldemort in the first war and joined him again in the second. He wasn't much of a father, but he was all I had. He was not a good man and wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but that path seemed ridiculous, even more so after Voldemort's death. I rejected everything my father taught me about blood superiority, including his ‘rules’ on who it was acceptable for me to love, and I'm doing my best to shake off his teaching that displays of affection are a weakness.” He smiled with embarrassment. “That sort of programming is hard to break, sir, but I'm trying.”

 

“That's why you looked like you wanted out when all the hugging started.”

 

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

 

“Okay, you can stop with the ‘sir’ stuff. The name's Robert.” He held out his hand. “You seem like a good kid, with his head screwed on right. I guess Hermione could do a lot worse.”

 

They shook hands, Theo finding the older man's grip just a shy firmer than was comfortable; even now the older man was letting him know he was on probation.

 

“Thank you, Robert, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Robert laughed at that. “Yeah, right. You look like a soldier that just come back from war!”

 

“Well, it  _ was _ an intense conversation,” Theo laughed.

 

The door opened a crack, and Jean Granger poked her head in. “Have you boys finished measuring each other’s penises now? Can the ladies come back in?”

 

“Yeah, we're good, sweetheart.”

 

Hermione came back in, moving to give Theo a quick kiss on the cheek, with a reproachful look for her dad. “You okay?” she whispered, taking his hand.

 

He squeezed her hand gently, pulling her down to sit beside him, before quickly letting go. “Of course.”

 

They were interrupted by the door opening again, and a tall man in a white coat stepped in. “Mister Granger, we have your results back.”

 

~~~

 

It was a few weeks later, as Hermione and Theo were walking side by side down a quaint little street in Muggle London when he first heard the bells. They had just had lunch with Hermione's parents, staying for a few hours afterwards, and were now taking a leisurely stroll towards a safe Apparition point.

 

The day after his scare, Robert had been sent home with a bag full of medication, and a strong admonishment to cut back on the takeaway foods, along with instructions to take regular exercise. This had been a warning, the doctor had said, and Robert was left in no doubt that this could happen again, for real, if he did not improve the way he took care of himself.

 

Theo had grinned at Robert’s crestfallen face, as Jean had vowed never to let him have his favourite fried chicken again. Robert had moaned that someone called the Colonel did the best chicken around these parts, but his wife would not be swayed. As for the horror on his face when Hermione had suggested switching to a vegetarian diet…

 

Theo liked the Grangers, and despite Robert’s initial reservations, they had always been very welcoming to him. From the first moment Theo had stepped into their house he had felt like he was home and part of the family; a bizarre feeling indeed for the young man.

 

He had never been with such a tactile family! Jean had no compunctions about putting her hand on his while talking, or touching his shoulder; Hermione was always trying to hold his hand or hug him, even with her parents in the room; even Robert slapped him on the back after a particularly raucous joke. It was taking some getting used to for the boy who had grown up being taught that displays of affection were weaknesses. He had to admit that it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, though he still struggled to reciprocate at times, which led to some awkward moments.

 

It was a relatively new home for the Grangers as they had sold their old house during the war with Voldemort and moved to Australia. Of course, the circumstances of how that had come about had needed some clarification for Theo, and Hermione had told him all about how she had wiped their memories of her and implanted details of a new life in their place.

 

It was a feat of skill that still impressed Theo whenever he thought about it! A hack and slash Memory Charm was relatively easy, and most teenage witches and wizards could do them. To selectively remove specific memories, cleanly and without damage, implant a false life and desire to relocate? Now that took some serious talent, and Theo had not been shy about telling Hermione just how impressed he was.

 

Her parents had been less pleased, however, and there had apparently been an extremely frosty atmosphere during family gatherings after Hermione had flown out to Australia with Ron and Harry following the war. Together they had tracked down Wendell and Monica Wilkins, as they had been known, and restored their memories. To say they had been annoyed at what their daughter had done to them, would be an understatement, but once the furore had died down, they had chosen to move back to England, relocating into London this time to be closer to her. It had taken a few months for things to return to a semblance of normal in the Granger household, but Hermione’s break up with Ron a number of months afterwards broke the stalemate.   
  


Theo always enjoyed a visit to the Grangers; Jean was an excellent cook, and he and Robert always spent the afternoon chatting about the latest rugby results. Theo had to admit it was one Muggle thing he had gotten hooked on, and he always made sure he was at Hermione's flat when there was a match on, so he could use her TV. She always teased him about it, but he knew she was secretly pleased that he was able to talk about something Muggle with her father. Theo saw how supportive both her parents were of her and her career, but could sense that there was always a little sadness that they still knew so little about the Wizarding world. It was a failure of the Ministry not to help the families of Muggleborns more in getting them involved in their children's lives, and it reminded him again of his conversation with Robert at the hospital. He often wondered at the best way to resolve this lack of understanding; it was certainly nothing to do with Spell Damage Research, but the Ministry was a big place… sideways movement between departments was a regular thing. He just had to give it some more thought before he made any rash decisions.    
  


The summer air was cooling as the evening drew on and they were both wonderfully full after the Sunday roast that they had all stuffed themselves on. Hermione sighed then, snuggled closer to him and snapped his thoughts back to the here and now.    
  
He fought to stop himself from flinching from her touch; he had done it before, completely unintentionally, and her face had broken his heart. He had tried to explain, but he wasn't sure she could truly comprehend what it had been like for him. In the privacy of the bedroom, he had few problems with more raw displays, but the tenderness of holding hands in public was harder. She did her best to test his boundaries though, and instead of moving away he pushed himself to wrap an arm around her and hold her close. He found he really enjoyed the simple feel of her against him and her happy laugh lifted his spirits. It was then that he heard the bells.   
  
"What does that mean?” he asked his girlfriend. “It sounds like it’s coming from that big building over there.”   
  
"That’s a church,” she told him. “There are bells in the tower, and they ring them to call people to church, or to celebrate somebody's wedding. It’s quite lovely to see a bride and groom exiting the church having just been married, and the sound of the bells ringing out to tell the world that they are man and wife."   
  
"So has someone just got married?" he asked, trying to look through the hedges that obscured the lower portion of the building from sight.   
  
"I doubt it at this time on a Sunday. It's probably just an evening service."   
  
Crossing the road and moving away from the bells, Theo knew that one day he wanted to  hear those bells, celebrating his own marriage.   
  
"You just decided that have you?" Hermione smirked at him, and Theo realised that he must have spoken aloud. "You don't even have a bride, but you know you want to get married in a church? How very... un-wizardly of you."   
  
He was suddenly glad he hadn’t said more… how he knew already that Hermione was going to be his bride. "Well,” he said breezily, “I was just wondering if Demelza was making Ron have this shotgun wedding of theirs in a Muggle church, seeing as she’s also Muggleborn. I just think it would be a nice way to celebrate some Muggle heritage when I marry." He bit his tongue to stop himself from talking, feeling her head turn towards him. He avoided looking at her, his cheeks heating slightly. Gods, he was so outspoken around her! He hadn't even told her he loved her yet, and here he was, pretty much saying that he wanted to marry her in a Muggle church as a nod to her history!   
  
"I see," he heard her say, voice quiet and thoughtful. "Marrying a Muggleborn as well, are you?”

 

He risked a glance at her and found her eyes turned away from him with a small, pleased smile and a pretty blush that decorated her cheeks.

 

She grinned suddenly, mischief dancing in her eyes as she turned back to him. “Well, you better hurry and find one, Mister Nott. You're not getting any younger, and your handsome looks will surely start to fade soon."   
  
Theo laughed loudly, the moment gone for now. He would tell her he loved her soon enough; they had all the time in the world after all.   
  
"You're a cheeky bitch, Granger," was all he said, as she snickered into his side. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, nuzzling her neck until she screamed with laughter, struggling to escape him.

~~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I'm on holiday and completely lost track of what day it was...
> 
> Here's chapter 3, in which we have drama and parties!

**June**

 

Hermione was sat on Theo’s sofa feeding Quincy, Theo’s Long-eared owl, some treats. She didn't mind admitting she much preferred Theo’s sofa to her own. It was so squishy and comfortable, and it was safe to say hers had seen better days!

 

Quincy usually lived in a little house outside, unless the weather was terrible. He especially liked to come in if Hermione was ever by herself. The usually reserved bird had taken a shine to her over the last couple of weeks, especially once he realised she was a soft touch when it came to nibbles; Theo generally restricted his treats, but all the devious owl had to do was put his head on one side and stare at Hermione, and she would quickly cave.

 

Quincy gave her a friendly nip on the finger, before pulling his feathers close to his body and elongating his ear tufts. Standing tall he gave a contented peep, closing his eyes; his pose and colouration made him resemble a tree branch.

 

“Lazy bird,” Hermione chided. “You should be out hunting or something!” He opened one eye and gave her a reproachful look before the lid closed again. Shaking her head, she reached out for today's Prophet. Even though she usually rolled her eyes about most of what was written in it she still couldn't resist picking up a newspaper when there was one laying about. Reading was reading after all.   
  
The news hadn't taken long to hit the papers that the Wizarding World’s Golden Girl and Witch Weekly's favourite bachelor had 'shacked up' as one reporter had so eloquently put it. The media had fallen into two camps; one that treated them like royalty and the hottest power couple going, and the other that dissed her and their relationship at every chance they got. 

 

The latter said she was after his money (laughable), or she wanted to marry a pureblood and improve her status (borderline comedic, considering her vocal opinions on matters of blood!), but she had learned to live with this sort of prejudice. The Wizarding World had come so far but still had some way to go it would seem.   
  
Theo was late from work but had keyed the wards on his Floo to let her in tonight. Quincy had brought her a message from him as soon as he realised. It was something she had quickly grown to appreciate about Theo; he was neat, tidy, and punctual, but if he ever  _ thought _ he might be late he always sent her a message.

 

It was the night they were supposed to go to the Annual Ministry Ball to celebrate the end of the war and to honour witches and wizards that had achieved some measure of acclaim. It was the first red carpet event they would be attending together. She knew Theo was not a fan of the press and even less so since they had started dating and the reporters had become more invasive. 

 

Just yesterday a picture had appeared in the Prophet of them kissing. Hermione wasn't even sure how they had got the shot. They had been seated in a Muggle Restaurant in London and as they had stood to leave Theo had leaned into her and kissed her before helping her put her coat on. Always the gentleman. 

 

The news story had reminded Hermione that the press knew no bounds and they were apparently being tailed at all times. She had spent most of yesterday evening placating her angry boyfriend, she remembered with a grin.   
  
"It's just outrageous, what gives them the right to intrude on such private moments, Hermione?"   
  
Before she could reply he had continued his angry tirade whilst storming from one side of the room to the other.   
  
"I mean, Merlin, I don't want to not be able to kiss you, just because a sleazeball photographer might be around! Whatever happened honest to goodness privacy?"   
  
"Oi, Theo! Breathe, take a second."   
  
He had looked at her, taken by surprise at her interruption. He had given her a small smile when he realised he had been going on like this for at least five minutes and not allowing her a word in edgeways.   
  
"Look, I don't give a damn who sees you kissing me. Merlin, when you've been followed around by them as much as I have over the years, you learn to ignore it. The people who know us don't listen to anything the media says and anyone who doesn't know us… Well, they shouldn't matter, but if you're  _ embarrassed _ about kissing me and being seen to do it, then we have a much bigger problem than some irritating photographers."   
  
She had smirked as his face fell and he realised how he had sounded. She knew she shouldn't wind him up, but it was such a lovely thing to watch as he tried to dig himself out of the holes he dug himself into. It was something that she had loved about him from that very first moment they had spoken at the Ministry, and he fell for it every time.   
  
"Hermione, no, that's not what I'm saying at all!”

 

Taking pity on him, she had told him she understood where his difficulty lay and knew he hadn't meant anything by it. “At least you didn’t punch this one,” she had teased, enjoying the flush that coloured his cheeks at this as he remembered that infamous Holyhead Harpies Quidditch match in the very early days of their relationship. She had promised to show him the ropes of working the media to the point where they were nothing but a slight inconvenience at times, starting tonight on the red carpet. If he arrived in time to make it.

 

The headline on the Daily Prophet was typically unpleasant; for once it wasn't directed at her and Theo, but at an old pureblood family who had just had a newborn baby, diagnosed as a squib. Medicine and science had improved tenfold ever since she had been at school and now, like most muggle diseases, it was diagnosable early on and not left to see what would happen as children got older. 

 

This particular family had found out at one of their first scans and, according to the papers, had chosen to continue with the pregnancy. 

 

It would appear that now the Daily Prophet readers all had an opinion and the paper was running a vote on whether squibs should be terminated or sent to live in the muggle world. There was no third option, and it was implied that this family were wrong to let the baby live!

 

She threw the paper down in disgust just as the front door flew open and Theo bustled in, already trying to get his work robes off. 

 

“Sorry I'm late, you won't believe the day I had! What's wrong?” he asked, catching the cross look on his girlfriend's face. He reached out to tickle Quincy’s feathers, the owl nuzzling his finger happily in greeting. 

 

“Oh, just the nerve of people. Prejudice seems to be something no one can escape, no matter what world you live in.” She walked over to him and allowed herself to be enveloped in his welcoming arms. 

 

“Anything in particular?” 

 

“Squibs. Whether they should be terminated in utero, or be sent to the muggle world as soon as they are born. The Prophet isn't giving them a middle ground! Just another thing for people who can't abide anything different from the norm to use to ruin other people's lives. How quickly people forget the war and the reasonings behind it.”

 

“Humanity has many failings, and short-term memory seems to be one of them. But maybe there is the beginnings of my next project, Mina. I mean, I’ll have to be careful this time and try to limit who else is involved to avoid a repeat of last time…”

 

She looked up at him in concern. “Have you had another letter from Justin?”

 

“Not since the last one, where he told me that he was going to ‘tie me to a chair and beat me with a shitty stick’. He seems to be becoming less inventive with each letter, you know?”

 

“You shouldn’t be so flippant! I don’t like it when you get those letters, Theo. It worries me.”

 

“Ah, Justin’s harmless. He’s still really pissed that I made the breakthrough before he did. I tried to offer him shared credit for the discovery because I know he worked on it too, but he threw it in my face.” Theo shrugged. “I don’t know what else I can do.”

 

“I still think we should tell the Auror’s about him.”

 

“Well,” he said with a grin, “if you find me bound to a chair one day, covered in contusions and excrement, feel free to call Harry.”

 

“Theo…”

 

“No, listen, this is about  _ different _ annoying people, forget about Finch-Fletchley!” He released her and started to pace. “I've been thinking long and hard of a place to start researching. A million ideas have been keeping me awake lately, and I want to make sure it's the right one. The one I keep coming back to is trying to rid us of just that… This prejudice over muggle-borns, squibs, magical creatures and more! We learnt nothing from the war! We carried on as if certain things never happened. Muggle-borns are treated better by some but not all. Their families are given little to no guidance on how to cope with the, frankly, terrifying revelation that magic exists, their child will soon be learning to use it, and that there is an entire hidden world of magic users that can, with a wave of a stick, make physics sit in the corner and cry! The likes of the centaurs disappeared back to the forests, never to be seen by anyone who isn't controlling their numbers. Squibs are seen as lesser beings, little better than house-elves to some, and isn't that where Voldemort's story began?! It's absolute madness…”

 

Before he could continue, he was attacked by his girlfriend who literally threw herself at him. They collapsed onto the sofa, a jumble of limbs and yet her lips found his without any issue. She kissed him fervently. Quincy gave an annoyed squawk and flew into the kitchen, heading out to the garden through his little pet door.

 

When the oblivious couple finally broke apart, Theo gasped for air. “Not that I'm complaining, Hermione, but what was that for?”

 

“Sometimes, Mister Nott, you just get it so right!” she told him, smirking. 

 

“I'll pretend I know what you're on about, you crazy woman! More importantly, I’ll need to apply for a change of department to work on this and probably need a sub-team leader. You interested in interviewing for the job?”

 

“Interviewing?” She raised an eyebrow. “I would think that being the plaything of the team leader would automatically qualify me for the position. Do you think you can handle me at work and home, my dear?” She laughed as she pulled herself away from him and off the sofa. 

 

“It's a challenge, and  one is willing to take on, Hermione,” he said, with a pompous lift to his voice. “Your work has been exemplary, of course, but accusations of nepotism are to be avoided if possible. One only accepts the best minds on one's teams and, well let’s say, one likes the way yours works.”

 

“Oh, does one?” Hermione said, her nose in the air, eyes sparkling.

 

“Indeed. In addition, you are cognizant of the fact that I happen to enjoy working with you under me!”

 

“Well sometimes, my dear Mister Nott, a lady likes to be on top.”

 

“And that works well for me too, Miss Granger! I am more than happy to accommodate you in any position you like.”

 

She laughed. “Come on! Get your pompous arse ready so we can get this ball out of the way. Then you can undress me later and fuck my name into your bedposts.”

 

“Well, I find that to be most agreeable,” he said with a leer. Today was turning into quite the success! 

  
~~~

 

The feeling of success hadn't lasted long, however.

 

He knew he shouldn't have said anything, but at the same time, it had been playing on his mind so much that he knew he  _ had  _ to say something.

 

When they reached her flat, and she had finally finished trying on dress after dress, settling on one she liked, he took his courage in both hands.

 

“Hermione,” he began, clearing his throat as her eyes caught his, a small concerned look creasing her forehead as she saw his expression.

 

“What's up?”

 

“It's… okay, promise you won't get mad?”

 

“Theo?”

 

“It's about Draco.” He inwardly winced as her face fell. “I know you two still have… uhh, issues?”

 

“‘Issues’? Theo, he hates me, and I'm really not overly fond of him either!”

 

“I know, but this thing tonight? We've all got to walk together on the red carpet for some reason… I don't know why, but…”

 

“Because the pair of you are Witch Weekly’s heartthrobs of the year, so the media like seeing you together. It's simple, really. What of it?” She could feel herself getting annoyed, just at the mention of Draco bloody Malfoy, and tried to rein it in.

 

“Well, I guess we don't need them seeing that you hate each other’s guts. Do you think…?”

 

“Theo, this is me you are talking to!  _ I _ have been teaching  _ you  _ how to handle the press. And as for Malfoy, if he could see his way clear to avoid being his usual, arrogant, ferret-faced self, we  _ might _ be okay!”

 

She wasn't doing very well with her temper she realised. It didn’t help that Theo had been mentioning this ‘issue’ with Malfoy for the last week in the run-up to this event, and she had tried speaking to Theo about Draco's attitude several times, to no avail. The fact that he appeared to have done nothing to help her, grated on her nerves, especially as he was now bringing it up as if it was  _ her _ issue to resolve! When he was so considerate about everything else, that he hadn't stepped up to help her with this...

 

She understood that his best friend and his girlfriend not getting on was causing him distress, and he didn’t want to upset either of them, but, honestly, she didn’t know what more he expected of her. Hermione had tried with Draco, on more than one occasion, but every time he had snubbed her. Then he brings it up again as if it was  _ her _ problem? Like she hadn’t asked him to intervene several times in the last few months? She lost the tenuous grip she had had on her temper then and told Theo precisely what she thought of the little ferret.

 

Theo’s face paled, his mouth tight with annoyance at the tirade. When she finally sputtered to a halt, red-faced and panting for breath, Theo thanked her for her honesty and sulkily left her room, leaving her to get ready.

 

With an annoyed growl, Hermione threw a pillow across the room and dropped down onto her bed, lip trembling. She was angry with Theo for the way he had been handling the Draco situation, but she was also frustrated with herself; deep down, half the things she had shouted were not the things that bothered her about Malfoy anymore. She wanted nothing more than to be on good terms with her boyfriend’s best friend, but she and Draco still had a habit of rubbing each other up the wrong way every time they were in each other’s company, and he had only gotten worse since she had started dating Theo.   
  
Later that evening she walked the red carpet with the pair of them, smiling for the cameras, and even making an effort to convince Theo to hold her in his arms, kissing him on the cheek and playing nice. He was getting better at showing affection in public, but she was sure that some of his tension would be translated into something more than it was by the reporters. As soon as they were away from the eyes of the press, she escaped the two friends, ignoring Theo’s call.

 

Hermione circulated alone for the most part, shaking hands with Ministry officials, chatting with old school friends, and drinking a little too much of the expensive wine on offer. The room began to feel a bit warm, and her head was fuzzy, so she escaped to the large gardens, beautifully landscaped and filled with the scents of the Spring.

 

The cool evening air helped a little. She was still annoyed, but also a little sad. Sure, every couple fought and argued, but why did it have to have been about  _ him _ , of all people? For their first fight, it was a little silly.

 

Not really paying attention to where she was walking, she collided with a tall man, spilling his drink and giving a startled scream. “Oh, Gods! Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going, I'm really… Adrian!”

 

The dark haired man grinned at her, flicking wine off of his sleeve. “You in a hurry, Hermione?”

 

Her face burning she produced her wand. “ _ Tergeo! _ ” The spell drew the spilt alcohol out of the expensive looking dress robes, and she flicked it aside.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

He laughed. “It's fine; I wasn't watching where I was going either. Wow, you look amazing. I love what you've done with your hair.”

 

“Thank you,” she said with a small blush. “You're looking quite dapper yourself.”

 

“So, how have you been? Don't see you around the Ministry all that often anymore.”

 

“Adrian!”

 

They turned, seeing Harry Potter walking towards them, arm in arm with a raven-haired lady that Hermione did not immediately recognise. Beside them was a stocky, older wizard, walking with a gnarled stick.

 

“Evening, boss,” Adrian said with a smile, shaking hands with Harry, then turning to the woman on his arm. “Pans, you’re looking ravishing this evening.”

 

As Adrian kissed the lady’s hand, Hermione gave a gasp of surprise. “Pansy Parkinson? Gods, I didn’t recognise you!”

 

The Slytherin flashed an aloof smile, stepping forward and giving her a peck on each cheek. “Granger.” The slightly taller woman looked down her nose at the brunette, taking in the expensive--to Hermione, at least--dress and jewellery, and clearly finding it lacking in some way. Pansy was decked in her finest, and it was clear that the cut, material, and sparkling decorations were of a far superior quality.

 

“Adrian,” Harry said, shifting the focus away from the distinctly frosty atmosphere surrounding the two women. “This is Archibald Duggen, and he's agreed to come in and have a chat with us next week.”

 

“Mister Duggen, pleasure to meet you! All of us in the Auror Department have heard of your exploits. It was a shame that last job forced you to retire; some of your cases rival those of Mad-Eye!”

 

“Nice of you to say,” the old Auror said with a humble smile, his eyes crinkling, “but Mad-Eye was the legendary one!”

 

Hermione exchanged a swift hug with Harry and left them to talk; she wasn’t in the mood for small talk, she didn’t really enjoy hearing stories of dark wizards and their atrocities--especially having lived through Voldemort’s campaign of terror--and Pansy was not exactly welcoming of her presence.  _ Nothing new there then _ , she thought with a wry smile. The pair of them had never got on, and she hoped that this was just another fling in a long line of flings for Harry. From what Hermione had heard, Pansy herself was a bit of a wild socialite, with no intention of settling down. As she walked away, she felt eyes on her and noticed Adrian watching her leave, almost on the verge of following, before Harry recalled him to the conversation.

 

She was grateful for that at least; she got on with Adrian well enough, and they had both worked in the same department of the Ministry for a couple of years before she transferred to the Spell Damage Research team, and he had applied to become an Auror. She had found him pleasant to talk to, but she had gotten the impression he was always on the edge of asking her out, and she simply wasn’t interested.

 

A man in expensive dress robes stepped out of a side door, their features in shadow. For a moment she thought it was Theo, and prepared herself to apologise for earlier. She didn’t want to fight with him; she wanted to hold him and kiss him…

 

“Oh,” she muttered with a sigh as the man turned. It wasn’t Theo.

 

"Still painting me to be the nasty Slytherin then, Granger?" Draco spat as he stalked up to her.   
  
"If the boot fits, Malfoy, then I guess you just keep on wearing it," Hermione retorted, that familiar anger surging. She tried to keep it under control and speak rationally. Gods, why did he always manage to piss her off so easily?   
  
"He'll see through you eventually! Theo can do so much better,” Draco said with a nasty sneer. “Do you know, he sat me down and told me that I need to be  _ nicer _ to you? Said some rubbish about how he wants the two of us to get on because he loves us both, and it’s causing  _ you _ distress! He seems to be missing the point that, out of the two of us,  _ I’m  _ the only one that’s looking out for him!” He looked her up and down, disdain clear in his grey eyes. “He’ll work out in the end that you’re just a flash in the pan fuck buddy that seems to have stuck around, wearing out her welcome!”   
  
There was a pulse of warmth in her heart-- _ he loves us both _ \--but Malfoy’s vitriolic attack overrode this realisation. She was about to snarl at him, tear him down, but was cut off by another voice.   
  
"Piss off, Malfoy. Spread your bitterness elsewhere." Adrian Pucey's smooth voice drifted out of the darkness behind her.   
  
Hermione turned, as Malfoy gave one of his trademark sneers and slouched off.   
  
"Thank you. You didn't need to do that. He'd have gotten bored, eventually."   
  
Adrian chuckled, and stepped closer. "Well, Malfoy has a well-known temper, but it should never be directed at a pretty lady."   
  
Hermione hoped her blush was hidden in the semi-darkness that surrounded them. "Well, thank you anyway."   
  
"No Theo tonight?"   
  
"He's around, somewhere. We… we had a fight," she explained, not entirely sure why she had decided to tell him that. Other than the brief time they had worked together, he was pretty much a stranger to her.   
  
"Nothing serious I hope?"   
  
"Not really, just the first one."   
  
They spoke for a little while, relaxed in each other’s company, discussing Hogwarts, magical developments, old colleagues. He seemed nicer than she remembered him, warmer. All the same, she was pleased when she felt another presence behind her, turning to see Theo's sheepish face.

 

She had no interest in anything else then, wanting only to let him take her home and for them to make up. She managed a chaste kiss on Adrian’s cheek as she said goodbye, then left him stood in the darkness of the garden as they Disapparated.

~~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas time! Mistletoe and wine! Fluffy stuff, and sinister lines...

**December**

 

Hermione knew that the Weasley family was large. She had seen the house at full capacity before, when every sibling had come home for the Christmas holiday, bringing their spouse, and in some cases children. This year topped every other, for sheer numbers if nothing else.

 

Molly bustled about in the kitchen, the Weasley matriarch masterfully wrangling pots, pans, trays, and utensils with her wand: a stout General commanding an army of inanimate troops. Charlie, Audrey, and Ginny--looking a little wider around the middle these days--obeyed her barked orders, stirring and lifting, measuring and pouring, trying to keep up with the growing heaps of piping hot food; smells of roasting turkey, sausages, potatoes and other root vegetables, boiling sprouts and carrots, simmering gravy, all permeated the fabric of the house.

 

Almost shouted conversation, voices raised above the excited cries of the children, filled the space between the smells. Fairy lights flickered and danced across the ceiling. Pops and explosions assaulted the ear as crackers were pulled. Fire and sparks weaved between the guests. The ceiling shook as the children--and a couple of adults it seemed--thundered about upstairs, chasing each other, shrieking and laughing.

 

Baby Lucy balanced on Andromeda Tonks’ knee; the older witch was clearly half cut despite the early hour and was singing what appeared to be a bawdy tune if her arm waving was anything to go by. Percy hovered nervously nearby, ready to dive in to rescue his daughter if necessary.

 

Harry rolled across the floor, his godson, Teddy, in his arms; the pair of them were howling with laughter, and the young boy’s hair rapidly changed colour. Pansy Parkinson stood nearby, trying to look bored and aloof, but with a secret half smile on her lips at Harry’s antics.

 

Demelza Robins, now Weasley, sat in a comfortable armchair, nursing little Freda. George’s wife, Angelina, sat on the arm of the chair, cooing over the tiny infant--Angelina wasn’t showing yet, but it wouldn’t be long before it was obvious she and George were expecting again.

 

Fleur Weasley, fanning herself frantically with a copy of the Daily Prophet, rubbed her heavily pregnant belly, sweat glistening on her brow, and fended off her two silvery-haired daughters; they burst from the stairwell, trying to hide behind her as their Uncle Ron ran after them, roaring like a monster.

 

Arthur stood to one side, deep in conversation with Blaise and Bill, stepping gracefully to one side as George slid down the stairs on his belly, his son, Fred, and niece, Molly, clinging to his shoulders and screaming with laughter.

 

“Holy shit…” breathed Theo, trying to take in the scale of the mayhem as he stood in the doorway.

 

“Brace yourself, darling,” Hermione laughed. “This is Christmas, Weasley style!”

 

“AUNT MIONE!!”

 

The high pitched squeals made Theo wince, and two fire headed bullets streaked across the room to hurl themselves in Hermione’s arms. “Molly, your hair! Fred! You’re getting so big now!”

 

“Do you like it, Aunt Mione?” little Molly, Percy and Audrey's daughter, shouted, shaking her head rapidly and letting the multitude of braids whip around. “Aunty Fleur did it for me! I’m a Medusa!”

 

“I’m three foot, three!” yelled Fred, standing proudly, hands on hips. He turned to Theo. “Who are you?”

 

“Hey, young man,” called George as he walked up, “that's not how we greet people. Hi, Hermione, how are you?”

 

Hermione hugged the tall man as little Fred glanced at the floor, shuffling his feet.

 

“Sorry, dad.” He looked up again and held out his hand to Theo. “Hi, I'm Fred!”

 

“Good to meet you, Fred, I'm Theo.” He shook the suddenly serious boy’s hand.

 

“You wanna play?”

 

“In a bit, buddy. I gotta go say hi to everyone.”

 

“Okay! See ya later!” With a flash of red hair, he was off, chasing Molly as she ran away.

 

“Hi, Theo,” said George, shaking his hand.

 

“Cute kid.”

 

“Yeah, he's alright, isn't he?” George grinned.

 

“Come on, we best go say hi to everyone else,” Hermione said.

 

~~~

 

“Mrs Weasley, that dinner was amazing!”

 

“Call me Molly, Theo, dear! And you're very welcome! Nice to have you with us, and to see Hermione so happy again.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m  _ completely _ happy, Molly,” Hermione said with a wink.

 

“Hey.” Theo pinched her side, making her squeal. “It’s really nice to be here, Molly.”

 

“Well, if things keep going the way they are, can we expect another… celebration?”

 

Theo laughed at Hermione’s shocked face.

 

“Molly! We haven’t really got that far!”

 

“Oh, don’t mind me, Hermione dear. You know I just want everyone happy and married!”

 

“Preferably  _ before _ babies are a possibility…” murmured Charlie at Molly’s side.

 

“Oi!” cried Ron, “I heard that!”

 

“You were meant to, Ronikins. How you managed to keep Demelza’s bump hidden from mum for so long I have no idea!”

 

“I’m more skilled with glamours than you give me credit for, Charlie,” Ron said with a lofty air, as he hugged his wife, before ruining it by pulling a silly face at Freda, cooing in Demelza’s arms.

 

“Yes,” muttered Molly, “finding out your son’s girlfriend is seven months pregnant was more than a little surprising… I’m just glad everything went smoothly.”

 

“We would have told you eventually, mum,” said Demelza with a sheepish grin. “We were just taken by surprise at first, and then time went by…”

 

“Fatherhood agrees with you, little brother,” George declared, clapping the younger man on the back.

 

“Here, Theo,” said Blaise, sat at his friend’s side, “have you spoken to Draco recently?”

 

“Uh, couple of days ago, I think. Yeah, it was the 20th, just before he went off on holiday. Why, what’s up?”

 

“Nothing really, just thought he was a bit short with everyone. Have you noticed anything?”

 

Theo glanced at Hermione, who was engaged in conversation with Harry and Bill, discussing the Author’s upcoming trip to America to speak with the Magical Congress of the United States of America. “Well, Draco’s still a bit snarky when it comes to Mina, but other than that…”

 

“Ah, don’t worry about it then. Must be his time of the month. Ow!” Blaise flinched as Ginny swatted his arm.

 

“I heard that!”

 

“What? I was talking about Draco! Besides, you don’t have to worry about that for a while now. Do you, mia tigrotto?” He rubbed Ginny’s belly, a wide smile on his face. “Not to mention what all those baby hormones are doing for you when it comes to…”

 

“Blaise!” she hissed, her face burning hot. “My mum is right there!”

 

Blaise leant over to his friend, ignoring the exasperated glares his wife was giving him. “Seriously mate… get your girl knocked up! You would not believe just how wild this little bolide got recently!”

 

“Blaise, I will lock you out of the house if you don’t shut up this second!” Ginny’s face probably couldn’t get any redder, and Theo thought it a good thing that Molly was engaged in conversation with those at the other end of the table right now, and couldn’t hear Blaise talking about her little girl like this.

 

“Gin’s so beautiful when her face matches her hair,” Blaise murmured, stroking Ginny’s face with a finger, an unrepentant grin on his lips.

 

“You’re playing with fire in more ways than one, my friend,” Theo laughed.

 

Blaise lifted a hand, shielding his mouth and lowered his voice for Theo’s ears only. “Oh, well when she’s angry, hormonal,  _ and _ horny? That’s like the gold standard trifecta for the bedroom.”

 

“One out of three so far, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Oh definitely! I’ll work on the third one in a bit… but I can’t control the hormones, unfortunately.”

 

“Well, good luck with that… think you might just get the angry hormones tonight, Blaise!”

 

The dark skinned man just winked, turning to nuzzle Ginny's neck, the young woman cackling as his stubble tickled her.

 

Theo leant over to Hermione as she smiled at him and kissed her on the cheek. The look of pure happiness she gave him at this surprised him. “What?”

 

“Was that a kiss, on my cheek, Mister Nott? At a crowded dinner table, no less.”

 

“You're a good  influence on a messed up man like me.” This time he leant in and kissed her on the lips.

 

He was happy, full and content; he was with a woman that made him better, surrounded by people that had welcomed him into their home and their hearts, and he was no longer afraid to show how he felt about this wonderful woman. It was the best Christmas he had had in many years.

 

Later, just as it was getting dark, he was invited out to the shed by an excited Arthur, along with Harry, Charlie and Bill, the older Weasley keen to show the men something he had recently picked up from a Muggle contact of his. He wanted to get Harry's thoughts, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Theo was interested as well. He had heard about Arthur's dalliance with Muggle technology and wanted to talk to him about his thoughts on integrating the two worlds better, especially for children born to Muggles.

 

Hermione held him back at the door, briefly, giving him a kiss under the mistletoe that curled his toes.

 

As he stepped outside, the crisp winter air caught in his throat. Coughing a little, he wandered around the side of the rambling house towards the shed. He could already see the men inside.

 

A hand snaked out of the gathering shadows, grabbed his arm, and dragged him to the wall of the house.

 

“Pansy?”

 

The dark haired woman pressed herself against him, one arm on either side of his head, fingers of one hand tangling in his hair. “Hello, Theo,” she said with a small smile.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing. Don't you think this… dalliance with the Mudblood has gone on long enough? What would your father think?”

 

“I could give two shits what my father would think of Hermione and I. He’s out of my life, along with the rest of my family!”

 

“I can understand it somewhat; she’s a clever girl, and you always were attracted to the smart ones.”

 

“And why do you care who I have a relationship with, anyway? If you’re trying to claim it’s wrong because you still ascribe to outdated pureblood nonsense, isn’t your ‘dalliance’ with Harry making you out to be a hypocrite? Lily Potter was a muggleborn as well.”

 

“The Potters, despite some terrible decisions in the past, still have a decent pedigree in pureblood circles, and besides… it is simply a fling, nothing more, nothing less. Your relationship is causing talk in certain circles that still find such things… distasteful. You don't want to get a visit from that sort, do you?”

 

“Let them come,” Theo snarled. “I’ll be sure to tell them where they can shove their unwelcome opinions!”

 

Pansy stepped back, a sneer on her lips. “Just offering some friendly advice to an old school friend. You'd be wise to think hard on it. I hear Laila’s been sniffing around you again. Maybe you should consider her offer more seriously. I remember you two being quite the cute couple a few years back.”

 

Theo stood there for a minute after she'd left, his fists clenched.  _ That damn prejudice is going to be nothing but trouble to extinguish, _ he thought,  _ and the old families would rather relinquish their Galleons than allow Muggleborns equal status in this world. And as for Laila... _

 

She had turned out to be a money grubbing slut who had been fucking someone else on the side. The fact that his discovery of this had happened around the time he had plucked up the courage to tell her he loved her had made it especially painful. But apparently her feelings for him had been rekindled; she had owled him a few weeks back, begging for another chance, and he had burned the letter without responding. Every few days she tried, and every time he ignored her. He realised that he hadn’t told Hermione about this, which might be an awkward conversation, but the opportunity really hadn’t come up. He had told himself before that honesty was the best policy with her, but he wasn’t sure how to start that conversation: “Hey, an ex-girlfriend has been writing to me for the last few weeks, wanting to try again, and I completely failed to tell you because it felt like it would be an awkward conversation…” He didn’t think it would end well, and it was likely to get worse the longer he left it! What a mess! It had been longer than normal between her letters, and Theo hoped that she had simply taken the hint and given up. Maybe if he never received another letter there wouldn’t be a need to broach the subject...

 

“Stupid idea, Theo, but you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?” he muttered. “Yup. A whole new level of stupid… well done.”

 

Trying to put his anger behind him, he walked into the shed, to join the others. Soon he was lost in the works of Muggle contraptions and Arthur's boundless enthusiasm, listening to Harry's explanations about mobile phones, sunglasses, and video games.

 

~~~

 

It was sometime later that he and Hermione bid their farewells to the Weasleys and their guests, wanting to get an early night before they spent Christmas day with the Grangers. 

 

Hermione stayed with Theo that night, their first Christmas as a couple. In the morning they relaxed with breakfast in bed and exchanged gifts.

 

“Oh, Theo, it's beautiful!” Her voice was low, almost reverential, as she looked at the necklace within the satin lined, leather box. She didn't need to be a jeweller to know that the piece was worth a fortune; delicate platinum links held a profusion of bright blue, oval stones along its length, a starburst of diamonds surrounding the largest sapphire at the bottom. She turned tear filled eyes to him. “It’s beautiful,” she said again, unable to think of anything else to say.

 

“It was my mother's. I never knew her, but from stories my grandfather told me, I'm sure she would be happy to see you wear it, Hermione. They're sapphires, and I thought they would look amazing against your skin.”

 

He lifted the necklace from the box, fixing it around his girlfriend's throat. It looked dazzling in the morning light, and Hermione stared at it in a small mirror.

 

“It's…”

 

“I know,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “And I was right; it suits you perfectly.”

 

Hermione leant into him, pressing her lips firmly against his. “You're the best, Theo.”

 

“You're not so bad yourself.”

 

“Oh, but my gift seems so small in comparison!”

 

“I'm sure it'll be great. Now gimme!”

 

He took the small box from her, grinning at her wry smile as she rolled over to straddle him. Carefully removing the paper, he folded it and put it to one side.

 

“Really? Half the fun is tearing it off.”

 

“Hey, if you're careful it can be reused.” Theo gently opened the box and gave a low whistle.

 

“Come on, it's not that great,” Hermione said, her fingers lightly stroking his sides.

 

“No, I like it!”

 

“It's for your chain,” she said, twining a finger around the chain that hung around Theo's neck. “You said you'd never take it off.”

 

“Never have, never will.” He lifted the chain slightly, looking down at it, memories prominent in his mind.

 

“You said your grandfather gave it to you.”

 

He nodded. “My maternal grandfather. He gave it to me the day he died, and I promised him I'd never take it off. He was a great man; not famous or popular in wizarding circles or anything, but for a young kid with few family figures I could truly look up to… he was just so different from everyone else. Wicked sense of humour too.”

 

Hermione smiled, lifting the box from his unresisting hand. She plucked out the small pendant and fitted it to the chain. She kissed the small key and laid the chain back on his chest. “Well, now you've got another reason to keep it on… you've got the key to my heart around your neck.”

 

They smiled for a moment before Hermione gave a small snort of laughter.

 

“So corny,” Theo whispered, the pair of them bursting into laughter. “I love it.”

 

“I'm glad.” She ducked down to him, sweeping her hair over to one side as she kissed him tenderly.

 

“And... I love you,” he whispered. Her eyes widened slightly, hands stilling on his chest. “I know it’s only been a few months since we started dating…”

 

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the Ministry Ball.” 

 

“I've wanted to say it since before then. I've… not had good experiences with those words before, and it made me hesitant, just in case…”

 

“I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Theo.”

 

He pulled her to him, kissing her and feeling his blood surging again.

 

By the time they collapsed, satiated once more, Theo had quite dismissed Pansy's warning. It didn't matter. He had her, she had him, and nothing was going to change that!

 

~~~


	6. Chapter 6

**March**

 

Hermione and Harry were sat in Theo’s living room one Sunday afternoon catching up. It had been the first time they had seen each other since Christmas, over two whole months ago.

 

“So, America? How has it been?” Hermione asked as she sipped her tea. “Learning lots from our American cousins?”

 

“It's very interesting. They have quite a few good ideas and some things that are totally different ways of dealing with things!”

 

“You here for long? I want to hear all about it! Magic in another culture, even one so similar to our own must be fascinating.”

 

“It is, but it feels like I have spent every other week out there since Christmas! It’s playing havoc on my sleep cycle, trying to be here for the department, _and_ over there for meetings! Travelling by Portkey every few days, that distance…” He gave a small shudder.

 

“So, how long have I got to pick your brains? When do you go back?”

 

“Two weeks Monday. I need to go visit Bill and Fleur, say hello to little Louis properly.”

 

“Yes, you were missed at the time.”

 

“I know! I tried to get back in time last month but, well, things got away from me.”

 

“I'm sure they'll forgive you. What other big plans do you have?”

 

“Well, I have a rare week’s leave to take. Wonders will never cease! I think I might treat Pansy to a holiday. She's been working really hard lately.” He looked up and didn't miss the small sneer that graced his best friend's features.

 

“If you got to know her, Hermione, I think you would genuinely like her.”

 

“Sounds like you two are getting serious, Harry.” She sidestepped his hidden plea to like the girl who had bullied her throughout her entire school career.

 

“Oh no, not at all! You know me, not ready to settle down.”

 

“Uhuh… So why would you worry about me getting to know her if you are planning to kick her to the curb when you get bored?”

 

“Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger? The Hermione I know doesn't have a spiteful bone in her body!”

 

“I'm just saying it how I see it. Call it Slytherin influence,” she smirked before covering her face with the giant teacup and taking a sip.

 

“Oi, I'll have you know I only have the cunning part of the traditional Slytherin, none of the spite!” Theo hollered from the kitchen.

 

“Oh, that and the eavesdropping tendencies?” Hermione laughed back.

 

Theo popped his head round the door. “Hey, I learned that from you Gryffindors! I will also be scarred for life. I did _not_ need to hear Ron and Demelza attempting to make baby number two in the wood store at Christmas.”

 

“Neither did we mate.” Harry grimaced. “George is part evil, I swear. He gets a weird pleasure from embarrassing everyone.”

 

“Right, Draco should be here any minute. I'll leave you two to it. Some fresh cookies are cooling in the kitchen. I recommend you get in there soon before Quincy wakes up and sees them.” Theo ambled to the back of the sofa and kissed Hermione on the top of her head. Just as he did the doorbell went. “Talk of the ferret, that'll be him now. Have a good afternoon, beautiful.”

 

“Will do, sexy!” called Harry with a grin.

 

Moments later Theo returned with Adrian Pucey. “False alarm!”

 

“Sorry to bother you folks on a Saturday, but I need to speak to Harry.”

 

Hermione saw he was in his full Auror uniform; it must be something serious.

 

“Could we borrow your kitchen, mate?” Harry asked already heading towards the hallway.

 

“Sure,” Theo replied. “But that's... the study…” He trailed off as both men strolled along the hall, straight into his office space, currently in a state of slight disarray. “He’s been here before, right?” he asked Hermione.

 

She giggled. “He’s probably too embarrassed to turn around now and is just going with it.”

 

“You're giggling, Mina, but apart from the fact that the centre of my desk is suspiciously clear, with everything pushed to one side… I'm pretty sure you also have one very _naughty_ pair of knickers on the floor in there. I may have unceremoniously tossed them there last night in my haste...”

 

He laughed as her mirth filled face turned to one of horror. “Crap, crap, crap! I won't be able to look at Harry ever again.”

 

“Just Harry? What about Pucey!”

 

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

 

Laughing, he pulled her into his arms, burying her scarlet face into the crook of his neck. “Don't stress it. I for one love that particular set. Although I think I still prefer it on my bedroom floor and you in my bed.”

 

“Oh, really now,” she replied, a husky tone in her voice.

 

“Well, yes… but I prefer it, even more, when you're on top.”

 

He swooped in then to kiss her, her giggles being swallowed up by him.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake," Draco exclaimed, "why do I get to walk in and see this? I've just eaten breakfast! No wonder you didn't hear me knocking.”

 

They pulled away from each other and Theo shot Hermione a pained look as she headed towards the kitchen.

 

“Pleasure as always, Malfoy,” she cast over her shoulder.

 

As she walked into the kitchen, Harry and Adrian came out of the study and headed back to the lounge. She leant on the worktop, taking a moment to calm down; she was a strange mix of horny, thanks to Theo's touch, and angry at Malfoy for interrupting it. She knew that they wouldn't have been able to take it further with the others there, but she would have liked a few more moments in his arms. She listened to the babble of voices in the other room as the men talked.

 

She felt that she wasn't alone, turning to see Adrian in the doorway. Malfoy was skulking along the hallway, just by the open study door. There was a flare of green light from the lounge and the crackle of flames.

 

“Hi,” Adrian said with a warm smile.

 

“Hey there, how are you? Everything okay I hope?”

 

“Well, for everyone but Harry, yes. I need to escort him to America early. He's just flooed home to pack a bag, and he'll be right back. Hope it's okay if I wait here? It's all a bit of a rush, and I have an authorised Portkey for this address...”

 

“Umm, sure, that's fine. You can hang out with Theo and Malfoy for a bit if you like?”

 

“Hermione, we're off!” she heard Theo call out. “Love you!”

 

“Love you,” mocked Draco nasally, just as the door closed.

 

“Or not,” she laughed. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

“A coffee would be great, please.”

 

“Okay, no problem. I'll bring it through, go make yourself comfy.”

 

He left her to it, and she sighed, her peaceful afternoon ruined. Adrian was pleasant enough; at one point they had been on the verge of being friends after all, but there had always been that undertone to his voice and body language that made her think he wanted more, or worse, read more into their interactions than there was.

 

As she made the drinks, she heard Quincy’s familiar hoot and looked up above the window. He had his head pushed through the little flap that led outside; his big eyes fixed on the tray of biscuits Theo had made earlier. He gave a mournful hoot and turned to look at her. “You can have _one_!” Hermione said firmly, lifting the warm treat up. Quincy hooted happily, taking the biscuit gently in his beak. He shuffled backwards until he was outside again, then perched on the edge of the conservatory roof, biscuit clutched in one claw, and tucked in.

 

Placing the remaining biscuits on the tray next to the hot drinks, Hermione headed back into the lounge. “Here we are.”

 

“Thanks. So how have you been?”

 

“Yeah, good thanks, Adrian. I love the new job, how about you?”

 

“Auror training was the hardest thing I ever did, but it was worth it. Do you ever miss our days in the International Department? What made you leave? I thought you were the perfect candidate for the International Relations role.”

 

“It was a good few years of learning, but I just didn't find it challenging enough. I realised I wanted to make more of a difference to the world.”

 

“So you didn't think of going into government?”

 

“I did, but spell damage just felt so much more rewarding, working towards helping people and changing lives that way. The work that Theo had been doing just fascinated me. He has a fantastically analytical mind, and after looking into his research, I just felt like it was the right challenge for me.”

 

“Ah yes, Theo, our Slytherin golden boy! I swear he might rival the great Harry Potter! Especially the way Witch Weekly talks about him! Even now, they still call him this week's most eligible bachelor. You sure he's behaving? Treating you right?” He smirked letting Hermione know he was only joking, although she still thought she caught a jealous edge to it. She had always had her suspicions back in the day that he was on the edge of asking her out after she had split up with Ron. Maybe she was reading too much into it again.

 

“Witch weekly is hardly a reputable source, Adrian,” she laughed. “Let them think what they want or do what they want. Theo and I are in it for the long haul. I've never been so happy, and hey, you were around when I was dating Oliver.”

 

“Oh Merlin, yes, that ponce. Whatever possessed you?”

 

Hermione laughed. “Don't be mean. We had a happy couple of years together until I finally realised he would never love me as much as Quidditch.”

 

“Or himself!”

 

“It’s starting to feel so long ago!”

 

“I know! I feel like I've been with the Aurors for years.”

 

“Well, all the disastrous dates and bad relationships are firmly in the past now. I'd forgotten how my love life seemed to be the hot topic of conversation in our office!”

 

“Your split from Ron ‘shocked the nation’, according to the Prophet!”

 

“Thankfully Theo isn't in love with Quidditch, himself, or any of the other character flaws of my past dates. Would you like a piece of cake or a biscuit by the way? I'm not sure where Harry is... I've spent enough time with him over the years to know packing takes him all of two moments!”

 

“It wouldn't surprise me if he's gone off to placate Pansy. He mentioned that this wouldn't go down well. And yes, a biscuit would be lovely.”

 

Hermione passed the plate to him. “So much for those two not being serious!”

 

A few hours passed and still, Harry had not returned. In fact, she and Adrian had had quite a pleasant afternoon chatting and catching up. He had definitely lightened up since their old work days together. She had also remembered that he had been going through some personal stuff back then; she was sure he had lost a parent. He would never open up to anyone, but he had briefly mentioned it to Hermione one afternoon when it had just been the two of them in the office.

 

He was obviously in a much better place, although she realised, as Theo came strolling back in hours later, that she couldn't recall him telling her much about him other than work. He had only been interested in her and kept asking her questions.

 

“I thought you were taking Harry to America,” Theo asked Adrian when he realised he was still there. There was a faint tightening around Theo's eyes at seeing him there still, and Hermione gave a wry smile.

 

_Men!_

 

“Yes, well Harry hasn't come back yet,” Adrian said with a shrug. “We think he might be having trouble telling the missus.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Pansy,” Hermione reminded him. “You know, my best friend's fancy woman, but _totally_ not relationship material?”

 

“Oh! I suppose he'll admit it eventually. So, what have you crazy kids been talking about while I've been gone?”

 

“Just reminiscing about the time we worked closely,” Adrian said.

 

“Well, we worked in the same department. We tended only to see each other occasionally when our paths happened to cross,” Hermione said, with a slight eye roll.

 

“Ah,” said Theo with a smirk. “This is Astoria Greengrass all over again, huh Adrian?”

 

Pucey frowned at the grinning man. “This is nothing like that,” he said, his voice a little hard.

 

“Oh, I don't know, Ads. You thought you had a shot, but she was waiting for me really.”

 

“Drop it, Nott.”

 

“What is this?” Hermione said, smiling at Adrian's discomfort, torn between concern and amusement.

 

“It's nothing!”

 

“Adrian here thought Astoria was making eyes at him in our fifth year but she was only looking _past_ him, because it was _me_ she had the hots for.”

 

“Yeah, not exactly my favourite memory, Nott.”

 

“Theo,” Hermione admonished, “don't be mean to our guest.”

 

Theo held up his hands with an unrepentant grin on his face. “At least I'm not bringing up Quidditch practise in my fourth year…”

 

“That was a dick move, and you know it!” Adrian growled.

 

“Have you two boys been measuring penises all this time?”

 

“Hardly! Theo just happens to be a lucky git!”

 

“Right place, right time… slightly quicker on a broom, a smidgeon smarter in tests…” He dodged Adrian's fist with a laugh.

 

Hermione felt a frisson of fear until she saw Adrian's smile.

 

“Dick,” he muttered good-naturedly. “Like I said, Theo’s just lucky.”

 

Hermione felt a little uncomfortable with the way Adrian's eyes flicked to her when he said this.

 

A flare of green light drew their attention to the fireplace, and Harry stepped out of the flames, hair more dishevelled than usual, dragging a large bag behind him.

 

“Hey, sorry I took so long. Couldn't find… uh, some stuff that I wanted to take, so…”

 

Theo and Adrian had matching smirks on their faces, and Hermione just shook her head.

 

“What?”

 

“Harry, your jumper's on backwards.”

 

~~~

 

“What are you doing, Mina?” Theo's voice came from behind her.

 

“Are you sure we didn't tidy up last night's clothes? I can't find those knickers anywhere.”

 

She took one more glance under the desk before standing up and facing Theo who was smirking.

 

“Maybe they went in the wash? Or Harry stole them? Maybe he likes you more than you think.” He smirked an evil glint in his eyes.

 

“Bleurgh, don't say that!” She swiped her hand at him and as they made contact his hand caught hers. He quickly grabbed her waist turning her around, so she had her back to the wall.

 

“I believe we started something earlier before we were rudely interrupted.”

 

“You did, Mister Nott, and then I was left alone all afternoon to play nice with Pucey.” Her leg lifted to wrap around his waist, and she sighed as he ran his hand up her thigh and under her skirt.

 

“As long as you didn't play too nice! I am a bad man for leaving you, Miss Granger, and since you're so worried that there don't appear to be any knickers on the floor… let's rectify that right away.”

 

“Well, apparently you _are_ the lucky one, as Pucey said. But I'm not interested in Adrian,” she said with a small giggle, as his face closed in on hers. She wasn't giggling for long.

 

By the time their clothes hit the floor any thoughts about missing knickers were forgotten and their focus was solely on each other.

 

~~~

 

**June**

 

Hermione was having a very rare sick day. The last few days had left her feeling lousy after spending Saturday at the Weasley's for little Fred’s birthday. She was pretty sure Teddy was the culprit for passing over his bug.

 

She'd had stomach pains and thrown up far more than she thought she should and had a high fever to boot.

 

Theo had bundled her up on Monday after work and insisted she stay at his. He was sweet, but after his fourth Floo call on Tuesday morning to check on her before 10 am, she had told him to leave her be so she could sleep.

 

The illness upset her because she couldn't even summon up the energy to read! More than that though she was missing the birth of Blaise and Ginny's little boy. Her friend had finally gone into labour and, according to Theo, had spent the last few hours alternating between cursing Blaise, and telling him how much she loved him. The baby was due any time now, and Hermione would have loved to be there.

 

She had slept like the dead, but now something had woken her up, and she wasn't sure what. She listened for a moment, hearing nothing but the unhappy churning of her stomach. Her body felt weak as she allowed herself to flop back down on the bed. Just as she shut her eyes to let sleep claim her once more, she heard the noise again.

 

Someone was in the house.

 

She glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was 4 pm. She had slept most of the day.

 

It was surely too early for Theo to be home, but maybe he had come with news about Ginny.

 

Mustering some strength and slowly getting out of bed, holding back the urge to vomit, she made her way towards the stairs. Quincy was sat on the bannister, stepping from one foot to the other, his wings splayed, his head weaving about as he looked downstairs. He looked at Hermione, chattering his bill as she approached and hooting quietly.

 

“Some guard dog you are,” she muttered. She felt like death warmed up, and she realised her wand was probably in the kitchen where she had left it with her work bag yesterday. Moody would be disappointed in her. Constant vigilance!  Even if you are sick as a dog.

 

The noise got louder, and she realised it sounded like someone was looking for something. Probably not Theo then. She doubly cursed her lapse.

 

As quietly as she could, she rounded the corner, crept down the stairs and got her first look into the living room.

 

“Malfoy?!” She watched him freeze, stopping his rifling at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Granger? Oh wow, you look hideous!” he said as he turned to face her. His usual sneer turned into a look of disgust as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

 

“Thanks, but what are you doing here? What are you looking for?”

 

“I'm after something for Blaise. We've err... Got a surprise for Theo's birthday and I need to get it without him knowing.”

 

“So you broke into our house? And wait a minute... Theo’s birthday isn't for another four months, and Blaise is a tad preoccupied with something more important right now. What could you possibly need, this early?”

 

“‘Our house’? Bit presumptuous of you isn't it, Granger? I wasn't aware you were the lady of the house. Well… mud….”

 

“Finish that sentence, ferret. I dare you.” Somehow, without knowing how, she was right in front of him, and she could feel the anger radiating off of her at the sound of that old familiar slur.

 

“Or what, Granger, you'll tell Theo on me? This is just a honeymoon phase. Once the humdrum of domestic life kicks in, he'll get bored of you and come back to me. Bros over hoes, after all.”

 

If this had been any other situation, she might have laughed at the phrase that just came out of his mouth. It sounded so ridiculous. Instead, as she opened her mouth to give him what for, her body decided it had had enough, and with a cramp of her stomach, she bent in pain. She threw up over Malfoy’s expensive leather shoes.

 

And this was the sight that greeted her boyfriend as he arrived through the Floo; his girlfriend collapsing to the floor at the vomit covered shoes of his best friend, who had a look on his face like he had just been touched by a troll.

 

Hermione realised much later that she never did find out whether Draco found what he was looking for, or even _what_ he was looking for.

  
~~~

 

**July**

 

A few weeks later and Hermione rode the elevator to her flat in silence, a crumpled letter in her hands. She twisted her fingers together, mind racing. If she kept on like this, she thought she would gnaw right through her bottom lip!

 

The news was good, depending on your point of view, and she didn’t know what Theo’s view would be. Many would think that barely a year was too soon.

 

Stepping out onto her floor the letter slipped from her grasp. As she turned and bent to pick it up, she heard someone wolf whistle behind her. She straightened in surprise and spun to find Theo leaning against the door to her flat, a large box beside him with a big red ribbon on it. She watched his gaze travel up her body, pause at her breasts for far longer than was polite, before finally reaching her eyes.

  
"Perv," she said with a laugh.

  
"I'm allowed aren’t I, Hermione? At least a little bit. Plus that skirt must be the tightest one in your closet, and your arse looks incredible in it!”

  
She sashayed slowly up to him, a faint blush on her cheeks. “You like what you see, Mister Nott?”

 

“Very much so.”

 

“And what is this behind you?” She stood on tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his lips, wrapping her arms around him and looking at the large box.

 

“This, my dear, is the answer to your prayers.”

 

She gasped and clapped her hands excitedly. “You got me that new boyfriend I asked for that remembers to put the toilet seat down! Oh, you are _so_ thoughtful!”

 

“Ha ha, yes, very funny.”

 

She turned away from him, laughing as she rummaged in her bag for the keys to the door.

  
As she put her bag in the kitchen, Theo manoeuvred the large box into the lounge looking at the photo frames that littered just about every surface she had in her flat. A mixture of Muggle and wizard sat side by side.

  
"How was Harry today?" he called to her as she headed into the bedroom, remembering that she had popped in to see him over lunch on one of his increasingly rare visits to the Ministry.

  
"Fine, he told me to send you his best. He's hoping to arrange a lads night out soon, next time he's home for more than a week. Aside from America, fatherhood is obviously cramping his style. Which is hilarious since it’s not even his child!"

  
Theo laughed. Harry had been devastated when he realised that Ron becoming a father was going to limit when the pair could go out together without serious preparation! Now Harry had to properly plan his nights out with his friends and best friend in particular. Theo knew the feeling; since little baby Luca had come into the world, screaming and kicking, Blaise had been hard to pin down too.

  
"Do you think Potter will ever settle down?" Theo questioned as he heard Hermione come back into the room.

  
"Oh yes, he wants a family too, he just needs to live out his wild child faze first."

  
  
Theo snorted. "I don't think Harry Potter even at his wildest is particularly wild, Hermione. Last month he thought it was a big deal that he was going to go to a club.”

  
He heard a chuckle behind him and felt two arms wrap around his middle, her head resting against his back.

  
"I think that's more to do with Pansy than anything else. She has very clear ideas of what is acceptable behaviour for an upstanding wizard, moving in pureblood society.”

  
He gave a small grunt at that, remembering Pansy's words to him at Christmas. He turned and enveloped her in his arms. "That's better," he whispered, kissing the top of her head, ignoring her comment about Pansy and Harry.

  
"By the way, have you moved one of the photos?" She questioned pulling away from him.

  
"No, why?"

  
"Well, the picture of us at Ginny and Blaise's wedding seems to have disappeared."

  
"Hermione, I'm not being funny, but there's three frames over there that are lying face down, knocked over by your piles of research and that picture you're referring to doesn't even live in a frame yet."

  
She looked around him to where he had motioned with a nod of his head.

  
"Well..."

  
"I think, my love, that that photo might have got lost amongst the paper," he chuckled.

  
"I don't know what you are suggesting, Mister Nott, my flat is the tidiest I've ever seen."

  
"Then you must have lived in some hovels, Miss Granger, because this flat is not tidy, but when you spend your days working on life-saving research, I think we can overlook it. Besides, that's what's in the  box.”

 

She looked at the large box in slight confusion. “Photos? More research?”

 

“No, I made you a decent filing cabinet. One with an undetectable extension charm on it, colour coded drawers, and hanging files.”

 

“Oh, that's amazing! Thank you!” She gave him a delighted hug, squeezing him hard.

 

“You're welcome, sweetheart. Maybe I'll be able to find the sofa next time I come over and not have to search for it under mountains of paper! That way you can save being dirty for the bedroom."

  
"Well, Mister Nott, it just so happens that you are one lucky man because I’m feeling particularly dirty right now. So much so I think a shower is called for, and whereas some lucky people like yourself have the day off tomorrow, I have to get up super early for a meeting. Please excuse me."

  
He looked at her properly as she stepped away from him and took note of what she was actually wearing. She had changed into a pale blue silk robe, loosely tied round her waist and she was showing a hint of creamy cleavage. It was evident that it was all she was wearing.

  
His breath caught as he watched her untie the sash holding her robe together. She smirked as the robe fell to the floor.

  
"You have approximately two seconds." His voice sounded strange, thick with desire.

  
She ran, knowing he would chase her. He didn't disappoint, and he followed her shrieking form, straight into the bathroom.

 

She already had the shower on when he rounded the door, standing underneath the flow of water and beckoning him in. She grinned as he didn't even bother to take off his shoes.

 

The water soaked through to his skin quickly, and she helped him undress while his hands roamed her body. Her back pressed against the tiles as he bent to suck on her nipples, hands roaming lower and dipping into the cleft between her legs. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he stroked and pressed the sensitive nub at the top, sighing in pleasure. He kissed her softly, their tongues gently sliding against each other, lost in the feel of their warm, wet bodies moving together. Her hand slowly massaged his cock, stroking along its length and eliciting a quiet groan from him.

 

Without a word spoken they washed each other from top to tail, Theo massaging her scalp with the shampoo and making her whole body tingle with the sheer pleasure of it. They could barely keep their mouths off of each other, and soon their fingers and toes became wrinkled from the water. Eventually, they were clean but nowhere near ready to stop.

 

Shutting off the water, Hermione led Theo by the hand, dripping water all over the carpet, as they walked to her bedroom.

 

Gently she pushed him down onto the bed, covering his body with hers, their kiss deep but tender still. His hands knotted in the duvet as she kissed her way down his body, taking time to suck on his nipples, making him squirm a little at the pleasurable sensation. Onwards she went, her tongue dipping briefly into his navel before continuing lower. Without a pause she enveloped his cock in her mouth, luxuriating in the moan that greeted this. Slowly, softly, she took him all the way in, her tongue caressing his length. Moving in a steady rhythm, she sucked his cock, softly laughing as his fingers stroked across her tangled hair.

 

Softly he urged her back up to him, taking her mouth with his. “If you carry on like that,” he murmured against her lips, “this'll be over far too soon.”

 

She smiled, reaching down to grasp him and line him up with her. “Then make love to me, Theo.”

 

Hermione sank onto him, gasping at the sensation as he thrust upwards. His hands roamed up and down her hips and sides, cupping her breasts as she rode him. They moved together, the sounds of their lovemaking climbing higher, eyes locked together. Theo's fingers reached between them, caressing her aching clitoris and giving it the direct attention she needed. The feel of his cock inside her, his fingers stimulating her, it was all she knew. She felt her breathing quicken as her orgasm came closer and closer. She rocked back and forth, faster now, lost in the eroticism of this moment as her muscles spasmed. She gave a low cry, tightening around him as she came, her fingernails dimpling the skin on his shoulders.

 

Theo continued to move, his own release so close. He could feel the strange pressure in his torso, that singularly unique pleasure when Hermione was on top. It was why he loved it so much. His orgasm always felt more intense in this position. He thrust faster now, Hermione meeting him stroke for stroke, the sight of her coming undone above him in the low light sending him over the edge. With a panting moan, he bucked, twitching slightly as she clenched her muscles, milking him for every drop.

 

As the high faded, they folded together, holding each other tight, just breathing. Gently they lay back, too exhausted to care about anything.

 

“I love you,” he said quietly.

 

“I love you too,” she whispered drowsily, trying to fight sleep long enough to tell him her important news. It was a losing battle.

 

Theo pulled one side of the duvet over them, already feeling drowsy. Spooned in behind her, he wrapped her in his arms and held her close to him, nuzzling her neck with the last of his energy.

 

“Theo,” she breathed, herself barely hanging on.

 

“Hmm?”

 

She whispered again, just as inexorable sleep pulled him under completely. “I'm pregnant.”

 

~~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a surprise! Here's a bonus short chapter closing off Part 1 :)

**The Next Day…**

 

Glass crunched underfoot as the two men stepped carefully through the debris. The glaring light of their wands flitted into the dark corners of the hallway, exposing pictures that were broken and cast down upon the floor.

 

“Hello?” the taller man called. “If anyone's ‘ere, show yourself now.”

 

“Pretty sure they've gone already,” muttered his dark-skinned companion.

 

“Mebbe, mebbe,” was the counter, “but never 'urts to be sure. You check down ‘ere, Roberts; I'll check up the apples.”

 

They separated, stepping as lightly as they could, trying to prevent their long brown coats from disturbing anything as they moved: the investigation team would give them hell if they managed to fuck up the scene before they arrived.

 

Climbing the stairs cautiously, wand held high, Dawlish hoped that they weren't about to find a body. Judging by the devastation and glass, it looked like it had happened downstairs. That was fine by Dawlish; let the new kid be the one that finds the mangled limbs and severed heads this time! Once was enough for Dawlish, even if it had been ten years ago it still gave him the willies when he thought about it.

 

The upper hall was clean and tidy, no sign of a struggle, bedrooms neat with beds made, and no indication that the bathroom had been used recently.

 

“John?”

 

Dawlish moved back towards the stairs again, starting to descend.

 

“Got some blood down here.” Roberts’ voice was steady, but there was a note of resignation in it.

 

“On me way.”

 

A moment later saw the two Aurors looking down at the scene; Dawlish automatically began to analyse it; the broken glass, smashed coffee table, knife marks on the wooden flooring, and the blood pooled by the fireplace. Not enough lost to kill, maybe, but a decent pint of claret there if he was any judge.

 

“So, Roberts, what do we ‘ave?” He glanced at his sidekick, relatively fresh out of training, interested to see what the younger man made of the scene.

 

Roberts glanced around, sticking his head back out into the hall for a moment before coming back in to gesture at the room. “The door went, the owner answered. No sign of damage on the door that I can see, so maybe they knew them?”

 

Dawlish grunted noncommittally, gesturing for him to proceed.

 

“Guess the owner quizzed the knocker, possibly let him get over the threshold maybe. There was a struggle in the hall, no sign of magical residue or spell burns, so I'm guessing neither had their wands to hand.” Roberts pointed to a mark on the hallway wall. “Light impact here, dent in the plaster. Looks like he hit owner's face into it, or an elbow. Something at least. The pair tumbles through the archway, into the lounge. The fight breaks the table; someone's got a knife, someone gets cut… see the light spatter on the carpet?”

 

“I see it.”

 

“Owner tries to flee. Heads for the Floo, grabs for the powder, but the perp… he gets to him before he can escape. The bag's over there, all the powder spilled,” Roberts said, gesturing to the right of the Floo.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Owner takes a hit from the knife, a heavy one, bleeding badly. I’d think he's down from the pain. Slight magical residue here, looks like Apparition… maybe a Portkey… I doubt Portkey though.”

 

“Why two blokes?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You've been saying 'he’. Don't get blinded, perp could be a girl, so could the occupant.”

 

“The owner's a man.”

 

“In an exclusive relationship with a woman, so keep an open mind, yeah? We need to check their whereabouts. Keep it neutral like; perp, occupant.”

 

Roberts nodded, and Dawlish gestured for him to continue. “I think that's it for initial assessment.”

 

“Not bad, Roberts, not bad. Agree with you, overall. Occupant knew the perp I would think, let ‘em in, shit went south. This could be straight up burglary…?” He left the sentence hanging.

 

“Nothing taken that I can tell, John. Only things moved were probably caused by the struggle.”

 

“So assault, murder maybe, or a kidnappin’.”

 

“But why though?”

 

“Oh, come on, you know who owns this place, and you know who ‘is squeeze is. Either one of ‘em could ‘ave been the victim.”

 

“Damn, Harry's not gonna be pleased when he hears about this.”

 

“Nope. Either his best friend or his best friend's fella’s been taken. This is gonna cause a lotta shit back at the office!”

 

Dawlish cast his eyes around the broken furniture again, taking in the pictures of Theo and Hermione, smiling at him from the mantelpiece above the fire.

 

“Alright, you go tell the neighbour what reported the noise that she needs to stay put so we can get ‘er statement. Cordon off the area, don't let anyone into the garden. I'll call it in.”

  
  


**End of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a short one, but we wanted to send you into the weekend on a cliffhanger ;)
> 
> Part 2 will start posting on 15th August. Until then we'd be interested to hear your thoughts so far. Hope you're enjoying it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience over the last few days while waiting for Part 2 to get underway. Hope this little teaser is enough to whet the appetite for more.
> 
> Fair warning: things get very angsty from here on out... Heed the tags and read on at your peril!

**Prologue:**

 

_ Clouds covered the watery, sinking sun, dousing the quiet street in shadow. A low wind picked up and stirred the golden and red leaves that lay on the ground. The rain had stopped a short while ago, much to the relief of the pigeon sat hunched in the lee of the chimney stack. He fluffed his feathers to shake off the water droplets and thought about getting some food before he sought shelter. He was young, only kicked out of the nest a short while ago, and was still learning to adapt to life in the big city and fend for himself. _

 

_ Cocking his head, he watched a pair of humans walk hurriedly down the street, wondering if they were eating anything that might produce crumbs. It didn’t appear so. The humans were moving fast, the male’s dark skin contrasting against the female’s much paler complexion. Her hair was the colour of the fallen leaves, almost a beacon in the grey twilight. _

 

_ The pigeon gave another flick of his wings, a familiar smell reaching his nostrils from nearby. It made him think of his old nest, the place he had been hatched and cared for. It was an unpleasant smell, but intriguing all the same. Despite his natural instincts telling him to fly away he waddled across the roof and looked around. _

 

_ The smell was coming from an opening, near the top of the building next door. One of those big grey apartment blocks. A small window was open, and the pigeon could hear sounds from within; water running in a spray, and a low, keening cry. He looked up at the sky, seeing no rain. His curiosity piqued, he spread his wings and flew over, landing on the window sill with little grace. _

 

_ The window was one of those small ones that opened out from the top and the glass was obscured, frosted so he couldn’t see inside without entering. He wasn’t curious enough to enter a human home though. The light was on inside so some small details could be determined. Now that he was closer, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. _

 

_ Over the sound of water, easier to distinguish close up, was the noise of a human in great distress. They gasped and sobbed, wailing and moaning. The pigeon could just make out a pinkish shape moving behind the glass, deep within the room, seemingly lying on the floor near a dark puddle. _

 

_ The smell was much stronger here, the coppery scent of human blood unpleasant to him. _

 

_ Two dark shapes entered the room with the crying human, and someone started to scream. _

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P2: Ch 1 will be posted on Saturday 18th August.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 1

**_Day 1 (5th July)_ **

 

Harry ran a tired hand through his hair, already messed up from the winds that had buffeted him on his journey. He was really starting to hate Portkeys! His brain told him it was still dinner time as he looked around at his assembled team. They were tired too, and many hadn't been to bed yet after a hard day.

 

“Okay people. Thank you for coming in, those of you who were off duty, and those who have been here all day. I know it's late, but we've got to hit this thing running and get in front of it before the press starts fucking with us. I appreciate every one of you being here.”

 

He resolutely ignored the clock on the wall as the minute hand joined the hour at the highest point and looked to his side.

 

“Okay, Dawlish, Roberts, bring me up to speed.”

 

Dawlish stood up, dog-eared notebook in hand, joined hesitantly by Roberts; he hadn't been invited to lead a briefing before, and his dark eyes darted to the occupants of the large room, licking his lips nervously.

 

Dawlish stepped forward, covering for his partner’s hesitance. He scratched his head, patting his grey hair back into shape before clearing his throat. “Okay,” he began, his East End accent brooking no nonsense. “We was called to Theodore Nott’s ‘ouse in Kensington, earlier this evenin’. Neighbour, one Missus… Uh…” He flicked through his notebook rapidly.

 

“Montpelier,” Roberts supplied quietly.

 

“Yeah, Missus Montpelier, a local squib. Nice enough lady, middle-aged but easy on the eye, know what I mean?”

 

“Dawlish,” Harry sighed, “time is of the essence. Get on with it, please.”

 

“Sorry boss. So, says she 'eard a ruckus goin’ on next door about tea time. Somewhere around ‘alf four. Mister Nott isn't normally a noisy neighbour, so she took note. ‘eard shouts and crashes, saw some sorta green light, then she reckons it went quiet. She popped over, all worried like, and found the front door open, place a right Elliot.”

 

“‘Elliot’?” Draco said.

 

“Elliot Ness? Mess?” Dawlish looked at Malfoy as if he was an idiot. “Can tell you rich boys don’t come down the East End much.”

 

“As you were, Dawlish,” Harry said, hand over his eyes. “And can we keep the slang to a minimum?”

 

“Righto. Says she called out, but there was no answer. Sent us an urgent message by owl an’ Roberts an’ me Apparated straight there.”

 

As the Auror fell silent everyone's gaze shifted to Roberts, whose dark skin paled under the sudden scrutiny.

 

“Come on, lad, speak up. Your turn now.”

 

Roberts gave Dawlish a nod and pretended to be calm. He spoke then, his voice trembling a little at first but steadying. Most of the others simply wrote notes and listened, but Draco was staring at the young Auror; it was making Roberts shift slightly. “We, uh… we arrived on the scene shortly, um… shortly after 2100. The door was ajar and the interior dark.”

 

“Keep it brief please, Roberts. Clock's ticking.”

 

Running a hand through his close-cropped black hair, the young Auror nodded at Harry. “Sorry boss. We did a sweep of the property, Dawlish went upstairs, I checked down. We found multiple signs of a struggle and a fair amount of blood by the fireplace where an escape appeared to have been attempted.”

 

“'Attempted’?” queried Draco. “What does that mean?” He was sat forward, fists knotted together on the desk in front of him. Eyes like flint, he hadn’t taken them off of Roberts, and the young man tried not to quail under the intense gaze.

 

“We found the bag of Floo powder thrown to one side; a good handful spilt between the fireplace and the bag, and a fair amount more stuck in the pool of blood… uh, sorry.” He muttered this in Draco’s direction, noting the pale man’s grimace. “We figure the attacker stopped the escape and then stabbed… Um… yeah… No body at the scene and a faint hint of magic by the fireplace, we believe Apparition. We’ll know more about that magical residue soon.”

 

“Okay, that's enough for us to be going on with for now. Thank you, gentlemen. Draco, I know you're upset, but keep it together please.”

 

“Whatever you say, boss,” Draco said with a sneer, his eyes flicking to Roberts again.

 

“Alright, so we canvass the area. The Muggle police haven't been called into this, and at the moment I see no reason to give ourselves that headache just yet. Looks like one of us was attacked and until we find evidence of Muggle involvement we keep it internal. Agreed?”

 

There was a murmur of assent; none of the Aurors liked having to deal with the Muggle police force in cases like this. Even if this did end up having a Muggle involved, the Aurors were better equipped to deal with the situation, in their opinion.

 

“Right then, keep details of the scene to a minimum to help weed out the cranks when they inevitably start to contact us. Volunteers for lead on this thing. Dawlish?”

 

“'appy to 'and it to someone else, boss. Caseloads are stacking up but willing to pitch in to be boots on the ground if you need ‘em.”

 

“Alright, appreciate the honesty. Pucey, your hand's up, wanna take lead on this? Don't think you're too involved with anyone in this are you?”

 

“Not really, Harry. I know Theo and Hermione, of course, but not overly close to either of them.”

 

“Bullshit!” Draco snapped.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Not you, Pucey. What's wrong with being close to the case? Theo's my best friend, so I should head this up!”

 

“That's why you're _not_ , Draco. Objectivity. You’re best friends with Theo, and we all know how you feel about Hermione! You're too emotionally connected to both of them to remain detached. That's why I'm not taking it; we need clear heads on this. It also goes against the Ministry’s new edict on our work: no close family or friends are allowed to work a case involving them. Happy for you to be on Adrian's team, but he's the lead, alright?”

 

Draco grumbled but subsided, frowning at Roberts as the young man gave him a look and a smile that Draco guessed was supposed to be sympathetic or something. He rolled his eyes, ignoring the young Auror.

 

“Settled, good,” Harry declared. “Right, choose the rest of your team for the long haul, the department's at your disposal for as long as possible. I want this wrapped up ASAP! We have a short time to get results, otherwise, we may just be looking for a body.” Harry's lips twisted in distaste at that. “Hate to say that, but 72 hours is our window. Three days, okay? I'll be back in two and hope to hear good things.”

 

The Aurors jumped to their feet, Adrian already calling names of those he wanted on his team. When several had agreed he gave everyone in the room a job; a person to talk to, a place to search, information to gather. Harry was soon left alone.

 

With a heavy sigh, he walked to his office and opened the door. The long-eared owl, perched on the end of his sofa, looked up at him as he entered. Walking over to the sofa he gently tickled the soft feathers before sitting down next to the sleeping figure laid out on the cushions. He stroked the bushy curls he knew so well. He felt bad for waking her. She needed to sleep; she had been frantic earlier, and he was glad that she had had at least an hour’s nap. “Hey, wakey wakey,” he said softly, gently rubbing her shoulder.

 

Hermione gave a start and jerked awake.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, it's just me.”

 

“Harry!” She flung her arms around his neck, clutching onto him like a raft in a storm. Her face was still blotchy, eyes red and puffy. “Oh, I'm so pleased to see you! Do you know what happened yet? Have you found Theo?”

 

As Harry brought her up to speed on the meeting, she found she was struggling to keep up, her mind going round in circles. Theo was missing, and Harry was now informing her that this in all seriousness could be a hate crime, a kidnapping.

 

Or a murder.

 

Harry didn’t say such a thing directly, but Hermione had lived through a war filled with hate. She knew it was a possibility.

 

She drifted away from what Harry was saying and thought back over the last few hours.

 

She had arrived at Theo’s house and had been barred entrance by Aurors standing guard outside. She had already been worried; Theo was nearly an hour late for their dinner reservation, and he was very seldom late, and always let her know if he was going to be more than a few minutes behind schedule.

 

To be greeted with that sight and no one to answer any of her questions? Her nerves had been shot to pieces.

 

Finally, a dark-skinned auror she didn't recognise had offered to take her into the department where she might be able to get some answers. The first person she had seen had been an ashen-faced Malfoy.

 

“Draco, what’s happened to Theo? There are Aurors over at the house, and it’s been cordoned off, like a crime scene.”

 

She realised it was just the two of them in the corridor, her chaperone continuing without her.

 

Draco raked his hand through his hair before turning to look at her. For once she could see no malice in his stare, only fear. As his hand moved away from his hair, she could see a slight shake.

 

“Granger, he’s gone. Disappeared. It looks as if there was a break in at his house, lots of broken furniture and stuff which suggests a struggle. And blood… a lot of blood. They think he's been taken.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘taken’?!” She grabbed his hands then, forgetting herself and who she was talking to. She couldn’t stand to watch him in this state of shock; his demeanour meant this was real, serious.

 

Draco stared down at their linked fingers. An outsider would think this was a moment between two distraught desperate friends, holding onto each other. He looked back up at her. “I don’t know, Granger, I’m going into the briefing now. All I know is that this is not good. This looks like the sort of thing that happened back in the war, where blood traitors were carried away with no thought or consideration to who saw or heard it. Theo lives on a Muggle street, and it was a Squib that called it in apparently. From the little I know she mentioned green fire, talking about the Killing Curse. This is Death Eater shit.”

 

“Well, you would know.” It was out of her mouth before she could check herself. She hadn’t even meant it that way but, quick as a flash, the moment between them shattered.

 

He yanked his hands away from hers as if they were on fire. “Didn’t think it would take you long to start pointing the finger, Granger. If you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time for your pathetic prejudice. I need to find him.” He stormed off down the hallway.

 

Before she had been able to say anything, her chaperone had returned and asked her to follow him to Harry's office, finding Quincy already there. After she had reassured the nervous owl, they had settled down. She had waited and waited before exhaustion had finally overtaken her.

 

She realised Harry had stopped speaking and was looking at her intently. “So, you haven’t found him?” she asked, giving herself a shake.

 

“No, Hermione. I’m sorry, we don’t have any more information yet.”

 

“Malfoy mentioned something about a lot of blood?”

 

“Yes, it looks like there was some sort of scuffle, or fight, in the living room”, he said matter of factly.

 

“And the green fire?”

 

“We’re not sure yet. It could be something as simple as turned over floo powder. The scene seems to give that impression.”

 

“But it could also be…”

 

“At this stage, Hermione, we can’t rule anything out. We need to get as much information as we can right now, get the initial samples and spell diagnostics completed, and then we’ll have more information to share.”

 

Hermione looked at her best friend in the eye. “You promise me you don’t know anything you’re not telling me?”

 

“Hermione, when in my life have I really ever been able to get anything past you? I swear, as soon as I know something, you’ll know. No matter what.” Harry moved over then to sit next to her and wrapped her in his arms. “We are going to find him.”

 

She sobbed into his shoulder then. “You better, Harry. I’m… I’m pregnant. I just found out for sure yesterday.”

 

She felt rather than saw Harry’s intake of breath. “Oh, Hermione… does Theo know?”

 

She shook her head; she half-remembered muttering something to Theo last night, but she couldn't remember if that had been a dream, or--if she had said it out loud--whether he had even heard.

 

They sat there in silence for a few moments, Harry stroking her hair as her sobs subsided.

 

“Hermione, I need to take you to the house. I need to see if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

 

“What? Now?” She pulled away from him. “But…”

 

“I’m afraid so, the quicker we get this done, the better really.”

 

“I… err… okay.” If this would help find Theo how could she refuse? The thought of seeing his blood though...

 

She felt like everything was happening in a surreal haze. This whole evening was passing her by if she was honest. One moment she was waiting for Theo, preparing to tell him her news. Now she was stood in the entrance to his living room, looking at what had now been confirmed as Theo’s blood, all over the carpet.

 

Their belongings were scattered across the floor, Theo’s coffee table collapsed on one side with two legs broken. The glass from the cabinet strewn across the floor, possibly where a misfired spell had hit.

 

A pile of laundry was strewn across the hallway floor, down by the study. She imagined Theo, walking down the corridor with the basket in his arms to put the clothing away. Theo was obsessively neat at times, and he hated clothes being left lying around--unless it was her underwear, she conceded wryly. There was no way he would ever leave laundry over the floor like that, the basket overturned. She tore her eyes away.

 

She could hear Harry asking her questions about the room, about Theo, about their stuff. Did anything look out of place? Anything that wasn’t meant to be there?

 

She felt that stating the obvious was not the answer they were looking; Theo’s blood certainly wasn’t meant to be there, contrasting starkly with the cream carpet. She strove to look past the obvious but still couldn’t see anything that was foreign to this room, or house. Then just as she was about to turn away and tell them so, she spotted it.

 

The smallest detail that did not fit, that had no reason to be there at all.

 

A button. A brown button. Sat in one of the pools of blood, but away from the broken mess of Theo’s belongings.

 

All it took was a point of her finger and a word. Harry quickly took mercy on her and ushered her out of the house again, back onto the street outside.

 

~~~

 

“Miss Granger?”

 

She looked around to see a vaguely familiar man striding towards her, a younger man at his side.

 

“Dawlish, Roberts,” greeted Harry, “what's up?”

 

Hermione recognised the older man now. John Dawlish, one of the Aurors that had continued to work for the Ministry while it had been under Voldemort's rule. She felt a surge of anger at seeing him, still in uniform and not behind bars. She was ambivalent towards the other man, recognising him as her chaperone from earlier, but she took the time to note his name and look at him properly. He was handsome in a chiselled, good cheekbones kind of way, with a neatly trimmed moustache and beard lining his jaw. He reminded her a little of Blaise; the shape of his nose, his strong chin, but there the similarities ended. Blaise’s eyes were wider, his lips a little thinner, jaw bones more pronounced. Roberts looked slightly less delicate, with close-cropped black hair. Most surprising were his eyes, so dark they were almost black. Despite his youth, he carried himself with a certain assurance.

 

Dawlish spoke then, recalling Hermione to the conversation. “It's orders, boss. Pucey wants all possible avenues explored quick, so we're to bring Miss Granger in to get a statement.”

 

“A statement?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

 

“It's routine, Hermione. Sorry, I should have warned you this would happen. The team need to know everything you can think of about Theo; his habits, any enemies, his… all physical descriptions.”

 

“So you can identify his body?” Her teeth ground together, and she could feel her nails digging into her arms.

 

“Hey, we're not thinking that, Hermione! It's very early. If we can get a jump on this, we can get him back, just as fast.”

 

She closed her eyes, hastily brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Okay, let's get this over with.”

 

“I'll Apparate us there, take my arm…”

 

“No,” she said, cutting Dawlish off. “Not you!”

 

“Hermione…” Harry said, recognising the look in her eyes and knowing its source. “Dawlish isn't the guy we thought he was, back then...”

 

“He is still that person to me, Harry.”

 

“Uh, Miss Granger?” Roberts stepped forward, offering his arm. “Would you feel more comfortable travelling with me again?”

 

“You're not a closet Muggle hater too, are you?” She ignored Dawlish’s bristle of annoyance and Harry's glare at the older man.

 

Roberts smiled, the gesture easy and friendly. “No, ma’am. My dad's a taxi driver, and my mum works for a dental practice. Both good, hard-working Muggles, just like your folks.”

 

“Dentist, huh?” Hermione said with a small smile.

 

“In training, yes.”

 

“Okay, let's go, Mister Roberts.”

 

~~~

 

“Does he have to be here too?”

 

Roberts glanced at Dawlish uncomfortably. “Um, yes, sorry, Miss Granger. Dawlish and I will be taking your statement and getting some details from you. You can just talk to me if you'd prefer? Just pretend he's not here.” He smiled once more, the simple warmth in it helping to alleviate some of the tension in her back and shoulders.

 

“Okay, so what do you need to know?”

 

“We all know about most of Mister Nott's life from the papers, but we need to know about the last day or so especially. Where he went, what he did, who he spoke with. Anyone he may have upset recently, or who maybe holds a grudge… Anything that could help us find him.”

 

Hermione sat back in the uncomfortable chair. The air around her was cool, and the dress she had worn for her and Theo's dinner date was a little revealing. “We were supposed to meet for dinner tonight. I didn't see him all day, he had the day off work, and I had an early meeting. I left before eight.”

 

“So you were together last night?”

 

She felt her cheeks heat slightly, remembering their heat and passion. “Yes, Theo had brought me a present. A new filing cabinet for my papers. I do a lot of reading and research,” she added as an explanation.

 

“Was there anything unusual about last night, compared to any other day? Anything he said that struck you as odd?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did he give you any indication that he was plannin’ on skippin’ out?” Dawlish spoke up, leaning forward and cutting Roberts off.

 

“Excuse me!?”

 

“Skippin’? Runnin’ away? Anything that might 'ave given 'im reason to fake 'is death?”

 

“No! Why would he do that?”

 

“That's what we're tryin’ to find out. Anyone threatenin’ 'im that he might be tryin’ to get away from?”

 

“He wasn't scared of those who had opinions different to his.”

 

“We're not saying he was,” said Roberts quickly, “but if there are people who were out to get him, then we need to know about them. They will be some of the first people we speak to.”

 

“Apart from me,” she snapped, her temper spiking.

 

“Of course,” Dawlish said. “We need to talk to you, make sure it's not you he was trying to get away from…”

 

Hermione surged to her feet. “How dare you?”

 

“So where were ya, when Theo was gettin’ stabbed?”

 

Tears stood in her eyes, and she clenched her fists. “I was at work.”

 

“Anyone confirm that?” Dawlish said, writing something in his book.

 

“Yes.” Hermione bit the word off.

 

“Good, can anyone confirm your whereabouts up until we were called to the scene earlier?”

 

She glanced at Roberts, noting his slightly uncomfortable expression. “This is stupid! You're wasting time with me when you should be out there looking for my boyfriend!”

 

“Miss Granger?” Roberts stood, placing a hand out to forestall any further words from his partner. “I understand your frustration, I do. Please. Tell us about the people who threatened Theo. We are out there, I promise you. Aurors are already examining the scene, any other clues we can find. We will find him, Hermione.”

 

She hugged herself tightly, refusing to meet either of the men's eyes. “Justin Finch-Fletchley. He has threatened Theo in the past.” She told them about the letters and the threats, the reasoning. “But Theo always dismissed them, said Justin was harmless. Angry but would never carry out any of the threats he made.”

 

“All the same, we'll talk with Mister Finch-Fletchley.”

 

“Yeah, think we’re better qualified to be the judge whether he's dangerous or not,” Dawlish said and rolled his eyes slightly.

 

Roberts managed to stop her as she lunged over the desk at his partner, her temper finally snapping. The door flew open, and Adrian strode in.

 

“Alright, enough! Dawlish, Roberts, out! I'll finish this interview. Go chase down Finch-Fletchley and lean on him till he talks.”

 

“Pleasure,” Dawlish said, standing and walking out without a glance at Hermione.

 

Roberts gave her a small, apologetic smile and followed, leaving Adrian and Hermione alone. As the door clicked shut, Hermione gave a cry of anger and kicked her chair across the room.

 

“Come on, Hermione,” he said quietly, placing one of the other chairs for her to sit near him. “Sit down with me, and we'll finish this, then I'll take you home.” He perched on the edge of the table.

 

“I don't want to go home, Adrian. I want Theo back!”

 

“I know, and we are out looking for him. We're doing everything we can. Harry's put the whole team on it, cancelled leave, pulled Aurors off other cases. I promise you, no one wants to see Theo back more than us. Dawlish…” He sighed. “Dawlish is old school, Moody-era detective. He works by shaking the truth out of people. It's the way he is.”

 

“He's an insensitive bully who hates muggleborn witches and wizards, that's all I know.”

 

“That's not true, Hermione. He's… he's a complicated guy, but a good Auror. I wouldn't want anyone else on my team. Now come on, tell me about your day yesterday, and anyone else you can think of that might have an axe to grind with Theo.”

 

“Well, _you_ never liked him all that much, according to your argument the other day,” she said, a little petulantly.

 

Adrian's face dropped, and he stammered for a moment.

 

“Oh relax, Adrian,” she said with a huff, slumping down into the chair, “I'm joking, don't look so offended.”

 

~~~

 

**_Day 2 (6th July)_ **

 

Her living room was full to bursting: Blaise, Ginny, Ron, and, it seemed, every Weasley family member. She was tired, hadn't slept since her fitful nap in Harry's office the previous evening.

 

“Hermione, love, you should really try and get some sleep. You won't be of use to anyone if you continue to fight it.”

 

She looked over, blearily, and realised Charlie Weasley was sat next to her. When had he arrived?

 

“He's right, Hermione. We will wake you as soon as there is any news.” Ginny took her hand. “Come on.”

 

Realising that, if she refused, they would probably all start on at her, she nodded her agreement. She didn't trust herself to speak; her voice was both exhausted from talking to the Aurors and crying.

 

Blaise was by her side in an instant helping her up. “They are going to find him, Hermione!”

 

She thought she smiled at him. She wasn't sure. Her brain felt like it was working over ten thousand scenarios a minute. She allowed herself to be guided to her bedroom by Ginny, who helped clear the bed. Without even undressing, she pulled the covers over herself and quietly thanked Ginny. Her friend left, shutting the door noiselessly behind her.

 

Hermione lay in the darkened room, the mass of swirling thoughts going round and round. She was trying not to cry, trying not to look at anything in the room that might set her off. She knew Theo’s dressing gown hung on the back of the door, and his pyjamas were under the pillow right next to her.

 

She moved her arm under the pillow, her hand finding his t-shirt in no time. She dragged it to her face. His scent, a mix of spice and sweetness enveloped her, and she let the tears freely flow. She wasn't sure how long she cried for, but eventually, sheer exhaustion overtook her, and she fell into a fitful sleep.

 

What felt like moments later she was woken by a myriad of voices, which were rising in volume. It took her a moment to register why there were people in her flat. It took less time for the horrendous memories to wash over her.

 

She quickly pushed back the covers and headed to the door. Something made her stop though, and she listened instead of barging straight out.

 

“Harry, I can't believe this.” Ginny sounded annoyed. “You are the head of the Auror department, and you aren't leading the case? Worst of all, you're going back to America?! This will break Hermione.”

 

“Pucey is more than capable of leading this, Gin, and I'm too close to Hermione to be able to look at this objectively. If I'm not on the case, I can't stay around if I'm required to work elsewhere. And don't underestimate Hermione.”

 

“Mate, I've never seen Hermione like this. She isn't functioning.”

 

She recognised Ron’s voice.

 

“Ron, it's been just over twenty-four hours since this happened. I doubt any of us would be functioning right now, but she will. Hermione won't let this put out her fire. You should have heard her interview. She put Dawlish right in his place. Apparently went for him too, before Adrian stepped in.”

 

“Rightly so, he shouldn't be in the Aurors anymore! He's a coward.”

 

She heard Harry sigh. “Just because he did his job in the war doesn't mean he's a bad bloke. Many people didn't feel like they could speak out or go against the grain with the Ministry during the war. It doesn't make them bad people, Gin. Death Eaters attacked Dawlish's daughter during the war as a warning to him. She only left St Mungo's a few years ago… post Theo’s cure. If anyone wants to help find Theo, it's Dawlish. He was just doing his job with the tough questions. Although, admittedly, he could do with working on his delivery.”

 

The room went quiet, and Hermione decided it was time to join them.

 

Her living room had emptied considerably, only Blaise, Ginny, and Ron remained. Harry was obviously a recent addition, still in his Auror coat. She noted he looked as tired as she probably did, although as she glanced in the mirror, she realised he probably had less mascara down his face.

 

“Oh no, Hermione, did we wake you?” Ginny cried as she saw her.

 

“Is there any news?” she asked, ignoring Ginny's concern.

 

“No, not yet. The team are looking into Justin as we speak. They are also waiting on test results from the button, and some other things we found at the house. I promise Adrian will update you as soon as they have anything to share.”

 

“Where will you be?”

 

“I’m being sent back to America. I need to report in by 9 am tomorrow, which actually means I need to leave in the next few hours.”

 

“I…”

 

“Don’t panic,” he interrupted her, the look on her face clearly showing her anger, “I’m not on the case, but I will be staying close to it. I still have to get daily reports, hourly if necessary, and if anything happens, I have told them I will head back at the drop of a hat.”

 

“Hermione, why don’t you take a seat. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?” Ginny piped up again.

 

“No, I’m fine. I think, guys, I’d like to be alone for a bit, if you don’t mind?”

 

Ginny went to speak again, but Blaise took her arm in his hand. “Not a problem, Hermione. Quincy turned up at our place earlier, so you don’t have to worry about him. We’ll come back over in the morning, but you know you can call us anytime, bene?” She saw the warning look he gave Ginny. She loved her best friends immensely, but right now she needed to be alone.

 

“Thank…”

 

Before she could finish, there was a banging at the door.

 

Ron headed to answer it, and within seconds Pansy Parkinson had joined the little group of people in her living room.

 

“What is this I hear that you’re heading back to America?” she demanded of Harry. “Now, of all times?!”

 

“Pansy, dear God, can we talk about this later?”

 

“No! What the hell is going on? Theo is missing, you going back to America, Draco is all over the place? I mean, what in Circes’ name is happening? I _told_ Theo he needed to be….”

 

“Pansy!” Harry spoke sharply cutting her off. “Come with me.” He grabbed her hand, and half dragged her into the kitchen.

 

Hermione allowed herself to sink into the sofa and looked up at Ginny. “I’ll be okay. I just need some time to get my head around all this. You know me, I need to work through it and see what I can do, what I can think of. I need to make sure I’ve told the Aurors everything I can. Like Blaise said, come over in the morning.”

 

Ginny nodded. “Okay. But promise me, if you need anything you’ll call?”

 

“Of course I will.” She hugged her, Ron joining the embrace.

 

“Same here, Mione. You need anything, call.”

 

“I will, thank you. And thank you, Blaise.” She nodded at him as he winked, dragging Ginny behind him as they stepped into the now blazing green fire and vanished, Ron following swiftly behind.

 

For a moment she shuddered at what that green fire could mean for Theo if it hadn’t been Floo powder in his fireplace yesterday.

 

She was distracted by quiet voices and remembered that Harry and Pansy were still in her kitchen. She heaved herself out of the sofa, her body wracked with exhaustion and welcoming the soon to be quiet of her apartment.

 

As she walked towards the kitchen, their voices could now be heard properly.

 

“...but Harry,” Pansy whined, “I just got you back! I had been planning all sorts of things we could do together.”

 

“I know, but I wasn’t meant to be back anyway and please! Try not to be insensitive. I’m only here because of Theo and Hermione!”

 

“I warned him, Harry. I told him to consider who he was seeing! I mean, look at this place… it's a hovel! The old families were not happy with his choice of girlfriend. ”

 

“Pansy, don’t! Not here, not now. If you think you know something, you need to report it to Adrian!”

 

“Harry, of _course,_ I don’t know anything. Theo is my friend too. It’s nothing either Draco or Adrian wouldn’t have heard anyway. It’s the same old prejudice, that's all.”

 

“Well, none the less, I want them to investigate it. This looks like the old days.”

 

“I hope he’s going to be okay.”

 

“Me too, Pans, me too. Now, I don’t have much time. I need to make sure Hermione is okay with everything before I head off.”

 

“Hmph. I wanted to show you that new lingerie I bought especially for your homecoming. I even went Gryffindor red.”

 

Hermione heard Harry groan. “Pansy, you make this harder every time I have to leave.”

 

“Well, you need to stop leaving me then, don’t you. That way I can just make something else harder.”

 

Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that crept over her. She felt like she was listening to her and Theo banter. The smile fell quickly as the sharp sting of tears took over. This _should_ be her and Theo in the kitchen, flirting up a storm. Not her, alone, and him God only knew where.

 

She leaned against the wall, her body wracked with silent sobs, their quiet laughter a stark contrast: them so in love, her heartbroken.

 

She needed to be alone; she needed to cry openly, loudly. Just to let the pain out. She took a moment, breathing in deeply to calm her shaking body down and wiped her eyes with the backs of her pale hands, then walked into the kitchen.

 

Her best friend was gazing at Pansy tenderly, her face cupped in his hands as he kissed her. She watched as the woman’s hand moved from her best friend’s back down and around to…

 

She cleared her throat, and the couple jumped apart; Harry mortified, Pansy annoyed at the interruption.

 

“God, sorry Hermione.” Harry nervously pulled his hand through his hair. “We were just saying goodbye. I’m going to leave straight away, you see…..”

 

“Harry, stop talking. It’s okay. I just really need to be alone right now. The others have gone.”

 

“Of course, we’ll head out. You need me, Hermione, you speak to Adrian, okay? He can get me back at a moment's notice. Or Pansy, she can get me as well.”

 

The look on Pansy’s face told Hermione that she wouldn’t be helping her.

 

“Okay, Harry, and look don’t worry about me. I’m sure Adrian and Draco will be all over it.”

 

He kissed her cheek and hugged her close as he made to leave.

 

“He’ll be back, Hermione. I promise.”

 

As Hermione looked over his shoulder into Pansy’s eyes she realised, for once, they both agreed on something.

 

Harry shouldn’t make promises he couldn't keep.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, posting Tuesday 21st August


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 2

**_Day 3 (7th July)_ **

 

Hermione woke to the sound of a banging on her front door. She stumbled out of bed and through the hall. For a moment she wondered why Theo hadn’t simply Apparated.

 

As she pulled the door open, the reality of her current life hit her once again. Draco stood in front of her a grimace on his face.

 

“Malfoy? What do  _ you _ want?”

 

“I’m here to ask you a few questions.”

 

“What?” she managed as he barged past her. She realised that she wasn’t wearing enough clothes for this new interruption. She shut the front door and followed the annoyed man back into her living room, her arms crossing her chest to help with some modesty. “Do you mind if I put some different clothes on?”

 

“No, I don’t have time. Merlin, Granger, I'm not interested in seeing anything  _ you _ have to offer!”

 

She bristled but was too tired and wiped out to rise to his obvious bait. “What do you want, Malfoy? I’ve already been interviewed by Adrian, along with Dawlish and Roberts. Surely  _ you _ don’t need anything more from me?”

 

“As I said, I have some questions.”

 

Hermione looked at the clock. “Malfoy, it’s two am! What the hell? I feel like I’m being treated like a suspect here!”

 

“Well, that's because you  _ are _ , Granger. Theo had money, fame, and is a pureblood. Who's to say you haven’t done away with him to fill your pockets or pick up his work? Don’t look at me like that! I know you two share your research and findings, and you’re surely smart enough to recreate anything he's shared with you.”

 

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears. She wasn’t stupid; Draco hated her, certainly, but she couldn't believe he was stooping this low! He was pacing her floor now gearing up for another bout of vitriol. Before he could carry on, she surprised him by being right in his face when he turned to speak.

 

“How dare you,” she spat. “We both know that I have more than enough ‘fame’ as you call it to last me a lifetime, I certainly didn’t need Theo for  _ that _ . Money? I have no interest in money, Malfoy. Again, I have more than enough of my own. I’m not one of your pureblood housewives, needing their wizard to keep them in expensive robes and jewellery! As for me stealing Theo’s research? I know you don’t think much of me, Malfoy, but that is low, even for you! Unlike you, my moral compass is set much higher! I’m not sure if you will  _ ever _ get this into your thick skull, but I love Theodore Nott, and he loves me.” Her chest was heaving with her anger, his sneering look of disgust at her words making her blood boil.

 

“Calm yourself, Granger,” he drawled. “This temper of yours... this is what I’m on talking about. Did Theo piss you off? Did he finally tell you he didn’t want to be with you anymore, and you snapped...?”

 

She slapped him across the face, and it felt as good as it had in her third year, if not better! “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m going to report your conduct to Adrian! This is harassment! I’ve told your team everything I know, and of all the people to send for a follow-up, they send  _ you _ … Someone else who hates me for no good reason, and turns up in the middle of the night? GET OUT OF MY HOME!” Her patience was gone now, anger taking over.

 

He brushed past her as he headed for the door. “You call this a home, Granger? Poor you...”

 

She stormed after him, slamming the door behind him and screaming in rage. She walked away from the door but had only got a couple of steps when she heard Draco’s voice again.

 

“Roberts? What are  _ you _ doing here?”

 

The reply was indistinct, both men lowering their voices because of the late hour. She moved closer to the door again; ear pressed to the wood.

 

“Well, you've seen it's safe here, so I suppose you can toddle on back to Pucey, like a good little puppy.”

 

“What is your problem with me, Malfoy? You've been giving me evil looks ever since this thing started!”

 

“Problem? I don't have a problem with you, Roberts.” Hermione could almost see the sneer on Draco's face. “I think you're too green for a case this high profile if I'm honest.”

 

“I'm new to the team, not incompetent.”

 

“I’m sure we’ll see, in time.”

 

“What were you doing here this late anyway? I thought Adrian was going to be keeping Miss Granger updated?”

 

“Just a friendly chat between old school chums.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes at that.  _ Nothing has ever been friendly with the ferret! _

 

“Okay, sure. Old school chums usually get smacked in the face when they visit in the middle of the night? From what I heard just now, she sounded upset, as I would be if you decided to visit at this ridiculous hour. Look, that’s not important right now. I’m glad I ran into you, I guess, as it saves me a trip out to Malfoy Manor. The scene witch just got confirmation on that button Miss Granger spotted, and...”

 

Hermione yanked open the door. “What confirmation? What is it? Is it important?”

 

She had a moment to notice the angry glares the two men were giving each other before her appearance made them both spin around towards her. Draco nearly took off, she noted with a small spike of satisfaction. Roberts’ hand was already half drawing his wand.

 

“Fucking hell, Granger!” Draco snapped. “What’s the matter with you? Leaping out at people…”

 

She pushed brusquely past him and grabbed Roberts’ arm. “What is it?”

 

“Shall we step inside?” he said calmly, casting a glance at Draco.

 

Together they went into Hermione's flat; she noted with annoyance that Malfoy strolled back in after them. When they were seated in the lounge, Malfoy lounging indolently on the sofa, Roberts and Hermione perched on the edges of their seats. Roberts smiled reassuringly at her, and she stamped down on the urge to grab his coat and shake the information out of him.

 

“The button has been identified as one from an Auror’s coat,” he said finally.

 

“What?” Draco and Hermione said together.

 

She felt her heart drop. “An  _ Auror _ did this?” Hermione added, her eyes sliding to Malfoy without her consent. He didn't miss the look either.

 

“Yeah, sure, Granger.  _ I _ kidnapped Theo in a desperate bid to get him away from you. Don't be an idiot!”

 

“Adrian is demanding that all Aurors check in tonight,” Roberts continued. “Mainly to get reports, and progress so far, but also to check everyone's uniform. No one else has been informed of the why, to minimise attempts to cover it up, so Malfoy, you'll have to come back with me in a minute.”

 

“This is wasting time!” Malfoy snapped. “Seventy-two hours, remember? Forty-eight of those have already gone, and the last thing I want is to have everyone thinking we’re looking for Theo's body, and not focusing on him being alive!”

 

Hermione held back the sob that almost burst from her at those words. The thought that Theo might be...

 

“It’s not a waste of time if someone in the department had anything to do with this. It…” Roberts cut off abruptly.

 

Hermione looked at him quizzically. He was staring at Malfoy's coat. She noticed it then, giving a cry of anger and lunging for her wand. “You damn bastard!” she yelled. “It  _ was  _ you!”

 

Malfoy sat, stunned for a moment, and it was only Roberts’ reflexes that saved him from being hexed. His hand flicked out like a snake, palm flat, striking Hermione's wrist and deflecting her aim. The jet of red light ricocheted off the lampshade, shattering the bulb and burning a hole in the wallpaper behind. He held her arm firmly while she shouted at Draco, who still sat with his mouth open in confusion.

 

“Easy, easy, Miss Granger!” Roberts deftly took her wand, still keeping a tight grip on her arm, a pressure point between his fingers; she found herself unable to move her arm without extreme pain. “Let's not be hasty; I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation.”

 

“Explanation for what?” Draco finally asked, glancing down at himself. Then he saw the missing button on one of his pockets. “Oh.”

 

“Mister Malfoy, I think we had better go back to the office now, don't you?”

 

~~~

 

It had been an uncomfortable and sleepless night, made worse by the news she received by owl the next morning.

 

“Explain it to me again, Pucey,” Hermione hissed, sat in front of the Auror, her patience stretched to breaking point once more. “ _ Why _ has Draco been cleared of this, and why is  _ Roberts  _ now the one under suspicion?”

 

Adrian rubbed a hand over his eyes. It was late afternoon on the third day of the investigation, and he looked like he had hardly slept a wink. “Draco's coat was missing a button, yes, but it turned out, upon closer examination, that it wasn't Draco's coat. It was Roberts’. They must have switched coats at some point.”

 

“How!? I've seen the way Harry keeps his uniform; it's meticulously looked after, he has a locker here, like everyone else, for when he’s not in the field.  _ How _ did this happen?”

 

“I don't know,” he said, exhaustion in his tone making it a trifle snippy.

 

“What we've got here is failure to communicate, Adrian! Are they secretly lovers and things got mixed up in their last make-out session? Help me understand why the only Auror that has been nice to me so far is suddenly the bad guy?”

 

“Unfair, Hermione! I'm also one of the good ones here, aren't I?”

 

She gave a grudging toss of her head. “Fine, you and Roberts. So what do you suspect?”

 

“We're looking into it and trying to sort this out. Near as we can tell they were both in the locker room at the same time and accidentally picked up the others’ coat. No, I don't think there was any ‘secret make-out session’ going on, but we will work it out. Until we do Roberts is being held here and Malfoy is on desk duty so we can keep an eye on him.”

 

She rubbed her wrist unconsciously; there was a small bruise developing where Roberts had struck. The man was stronger than he looked. “So it  _ could _ have been one of them?”

 

“I have my suspicions if I’m completely honest.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“I’m not going to start rumours, or poison your thoughts against people based on nothing more than a hunch! Looking at all the pieces of the puzzle, I don't see why it would be either of them, at this moment in time, but it's something we are investigating. Roberts doesn’t personally know Theo, he says. Draco is Theo’s best friend. I don’t know why either of them would be involved. My instinct is that Roberts contaminated the scene accidentally when he was there.” 

 

He leant forward and gently took one of her hands in his. His touch was soft and comforting, but Hermione still felt angry. Part of her appreciated the gesture, but she moved away after a moment.

 

“We've managed to track down Finch-Fletchley, and Dawlish is travelling to pick him up. He was out of the country, says he's been overseas for a while now. We'll see what Dawlish can shake out of him. Is there anything else you haven't told us that may be important, Hermione? Anything else that has occurred to you in the last day? Any tiny detail could help.”

 

She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. She hadn't wanted anyone else to know about this yet, least of all Draco, but if she mentioned it, there was no way he wasn't going to find out. “I'm pregnant, Adrian.”

 

He sat back in his chair with a thump. “You are? Are you sure?”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, but a magical pixie visited me in my dreams last night and said I was going to have a child very soon. Yes, of course, I'm sure! I've had the confirmation from the Healer at St Mungo's.”

 

“Did Theo know?”

 

“I really didn't get a chance to tell him. I think I tried on our last night together, but we were so exhausted after…” She gave an embarrassed cough. “Well, I think I mumbled something, but I feel asleep pretty quickly so I can't be sure if it came out right, or if he even heard. He was asleep still when I left for work, and that was the last time I saw him.” Her voice broke at that, and the tears came again.

 

Adrian sat still, fingers drumming the table, brow furrowed. “If he heard you, do you think…? Would it have scared him away?”

 

“He's not like that,” she said wiping her eyes with her sleeves, hating the fact that she teared up just at the thought of her and Theo's last night together. It had been so loving, so tender. Then he had been gone, and she didn't know if she was ever going to see him again. “He wouldn't run out on me, Adrian. He's a good man.”

 

“Men can get a bit funny with the concept of kids if they aren't ready...”

 

“He didn't run away!” she snapped, turning towards him.

 

He held up his hands. “Okay, I'm sorry. No offence intended, I'm just thinking out loud. Look, I know it may seem a bit off, but congratulations are in order I guess.”

 

She gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, thanks. Can you not say anything about this for as long as possible, please? I wanted Theo to know first but, well… Harry knows, and now you. I'd rather this didn't go too much further if possible. It's early days still, and the Healer says I still need to wait for a while longer before making any announcements. I read up on it, and you're supposed to wait three months until you enter the second trimester before it should be safe and the baby is well on the way.”

 

“I'm not surprised you read up on it,” he said with a smile.

 

“It's kind of my thing, I guess.” She shrugged.

 

“I'll keep it in-house. The press has been sniffing around, trying to get something out of us about the case, but we're freezing them out for now till we get things in order. Once we do that we'll start releasing information to try and get some more leads. The little we've given them so far has resulted in a lot of cranks, claiming that they took Theo. We're investigating each one, but they're all just idiots that are wasting our time so far. Luckily we can weed most of them out by asking them about the scene; most know only what was reported in the paper and we left several details out to catch the time wasters.”

 

“Smart,” Hermione said with a small smile.

 

“Just standard practise in these sorts of cases. Now look, I have to go speak to Roberts, try and get to the bottom of this coat business. You going to be okay if I get someone to take you home?”

 

“I'm fine, Adrian, really. Blaise and Ginny are on their way to pick me up. I'll be okay, thank you.”

 

~~~

 

**Day 4 (8th July)**

 

“Okay, you sanctimonious little toff dickhead, let's go through this one more time! Theo Nott is currently missin’,  _ you _ threatened him. Then, on the day of his disappearance, you and your fuck boy, Macmillan, are conveniently 'out of town on business’,” Dawlish made quotes in the air at this with as much condescension as seemed possible.

 

Hermione watched, open-mouthed at the Auror's rant. It had been going on for several minutes. She had thought that Dawlish was a horrible man before, but now he was showing himself to be homophobic as well as rude. She and Adrian were stood in the small chamber adjoining the interrogation room. The one-way mirror concealed them from the sight of those in the room, but it probably wouldn't have mattered: Justin was staring, goggle-eyed, at the man in front of him.

 

Hermione glanced over at Adrian to gauge his thoughts but found he was stood with his back to the mirror, reading a book! Her attention was drawn back to the room before she could comment.

 

“So, ‘elp me understand, Mister Eton wannabe bum bandit… What possible reason do I have to believe you  _ aren't _ guilty as hell? Maybe I should just string you and Macmillan up by your Daisies in Azkaban, let the Dementors work their magic on you for a bit? Pretty sure a few days with them and you’ll be ready to sing like a canary!”

 

“How dare you speak to me like this! I demand to speak to your supervisor…”

 

“The only things you’re gonna be talking to, if you don't start confessin’, float around in black, sucking the souls outta uncooperative little fucks like you!” Dawlish stood, throwing his chair across the room. Justin quailed and slid so far down in his chair he was nearly under the table. “TALK!”

 

“Adrian,” Hermione whispered, “Dawlish can't treat someone like this! Justin has rights, doesn’t he? Surely you should do something?”

 

Adrian didn't turn, merely flicked over another page. “I see nothing,” he murmured, “I hear nothing.”

 

Hermione’s lips thinned, and she looked back into the room.

 

“Okay! Okay, just don't set those things on me, please!”

 

“Where's Theo, Finch-Fletchley?”

 

“I don't know... No, really, I don't!” This last came out as a squeal as Dawlish hoisted the man up by his collar and shoved him against the wall.

 

“I am  _ so _ close to the end of my tether, Hufflepuff. People who threaten others make me sick, for very,  _ very _ personal reasons. So you better make me believe, with your very next breath, that you ‘ad nothin’ to do with this.”

 

~~~

 

“For what it’s worth, I believe him,” Dawlish said, matter-of-factly.

 

“He was terrified! He would have said anything to get out of that room with you, you horrible ogre!” Hermione cried.

 

“And he stuck to ‘is story, consistent like. If he ‘ad been trying to tell me Porkies he’d ‘ave slipped up. We’ll check his alibi, but I’m pretty sure he’s above board.”

 

“Justin is not stupid.”

 

“No, he’s not, but he’s also not a criminal mastermind. Not that brave either. He’s a guy who was scared by the reality of what ‘is silly threats to Theo mean in this day and age. He’s a man who now understands that ‘is childish rants and petty behaviour could lead to ‘im, but more importantly, the love of ‘is life, windin’ up in Azkaban and entertainin’ the Dementors. No one with a shred of dignity is gonna let the person they love most down if they can help it. That’s why I agreed to keep the details of our chat from the press, and from Ernie. Just say he was helping us with our enquiries. Helps him save face.” Dawlish shrugged. “It’s up to ‘im if he wants to tell ‘is partner the full truth, but that’s not our concern. Hope he does. Secrets have a way of coming out eventually, and it’s always best to be honest with your loved ones, don’t you think?”

 

Hermione stood, stunned into momentary silence. “I do,” she managed in the end. “You…  _ care _ that Justin is honest with Ernie? After everything you said? The way you talked about their relationship, I thought…”

 

He waved a hand, dismissively. “It’s what I do, Miss Granger. Shake a man hard enough, and all ‘is secrets will fall out ‘is mouth. Moody taught me that. If you have to show them something that scares the ever loving shit out of them, then that’s ‘ow you do it. If you need to make that person hate you, fine, they're not family so ‘ow they feel about you don’t matter none. I didn’t enjoy saying those things, not one bit. No call for it these days, or ever. Some of the older folks may have a problem with it, but ‘avin’ a daughter that likes girls gives a man perspective: you either cut off your nose to spite your face and lose contact with your kid, or you realise that who your daughter is with is far less important than ‘ow that person makes your child feel.”

 

Hermione felt that her mouth was still open and deliberately closed it.

 

“For what's it's worth, while we're talking honest like, I'm sorry if the things I said to you in that room a few days ago upset you. No offence meant, just trying to shock any hidden truth outta you.”

 

“Apology accepted,” she said slowly, surprised to find that she meant it too. “You're a complicated man, John Dawlish.”

 

He gave a loud bark of a laugh. “Yeah, that's what people say when they're too well bred to call me a cunt!”

 

~~~

 

**Day 10 (14th July)**

 

Hermione had taken to visiting the Auror office daily, desperate for news and answers. She wanted to know what they were working on, what leads they were following up, did they have any suspects now that Malfoy and Roberts had both been cleared?

 

Roberts had an official disciplinary attached to his record now, for contamination of a crime scene. Hermione thought it was a bit ridiculous, but she couldn't demand that they handled this case with importance and then question Adrian when he showed his team that no mistake, however small, would be acceptable. Still, she liked Roberts and felt bad for him.

 

By visiting the office daily, she couldn't avoid Malfoy so got a daily dose of unpleasantness. She almost took it as a form of punishment for not finding Theo yet. 

 

She found that she was running on autopilot these days. Researching was her go-to thing in any stressful situation, and this was no different. She lapped up the tiniest tidbits of information as if they were the key to solving the puzzle.

 

Sadly they weren't and frustratingly not much else was happening.

 

Adrian kept trying to talk to her about the baby, but every time he did, she hurriedly looked around, then told him to shut up in no uncertain terms.

 

Luckily no one had heard, or so she hoped.

 

Finally, maybe a week or so after she had shared the news with Adrian, he asked her to come to his office when she arrived.

 

“Have a seat, Hermione. I just wanted to catch up about things. I know you come and visit each day and we need to have a chat about it.”

 

“Well, I like to be kept in the loop, Adrian. I can't sit at home all day; I'll go mad!”

 

“I get it, Hermione, I do. But it's not helpful for the team, and they need to be able to speak freely, bounce ideas around without worrying that something they say might upset you. There is a process, and at the moment they aren't able to work through it! As much as I hate to say it, it might be holding up the case.”

 

She was shocked. “What?!”

 

“I don't say it to upset you or make you feel bad, Hermione, but it's the harsh reality. I need my team to be working at their best with no restraints, and I think I need to ask you not to come in unless it's an emergency or we ask you to come in.” His face softened. “How about I pop by on my way home a few days a week and keep you updated?”

 

“I...err… yes, that would be good. I'm sorry I didn't realise me being here would be an issue. I'll go now.” She stood straight away and turned to the door. As she reached for the handle, he spoke again.

 

“Just so we’re clear… You're not an issue to me, Hermione. I like seeing you every day. I'll pop round this evening, okay?”

 

She smiled. “Sure, thanks.”

 

~~~

 

Later that afternoon she sat in awe, beautiful little Luca Zabini in her arms. For the last few motherhours, she had managed to enjoy spending time with her friends and enjoy the newest man in her life. Ginny had asked her to be Godmother to little Luca. She had cried at that, but for the first time in the last few days, it had been with happiness, and maybe a tiny bit of hormones.

 

“You guys have created such a contented baby!” Hermione whispered, her eyes never the leaving the sleeping Luca’s face.

 

“You say that, because right now he's sleeping, Hermione. It’s a different story at two am most nights!” Blaise laughed. “If you tell me I usually look this bad, I’ll know you are lying. He’s playing havoc with my beauty sleep!”

 

Hermione chuckled, but before she could reply, Ginny strolled in with a tray of biscuits and drinks. “Zabini, you are so vain it's unbelievable! But he’s not lying about the two am night terrors.” 

 

“It's only vanity if it's not true!” He gestured to the tray in Ginny’s hands. “Dammelo, mia tigrotto,” he said with a smile, moving to her side and taking the tray. He carried it over to the table and set it down.

 

Meanwhile, Ginny took her seat next to Hermione, and Blaise poured them all some drinks. Quincy, who had arrived with the Zabini’s to visit, perked up when he saw the biscuits. He sidled closer, along the back of the sofa. Hooting softly, he looked from the biscuits to Blaise and back again.

 

Blaise glanced at Hermione who gave a grin, shaking her head at the little owl. “Greedy bird. Just one, or you’ll get fat!”

 

Quincy put his head on one side, then the other.

 

“Fat is what happens if you eat too much food!” Hermione said sternly. The happy fluttering and dancing feet at this pronouncement made her laugh. “It's not a good thing, Quincy!”

 

“You know,” said Blaise, “he really shouldn't be eating this stuff? It's bad for him.”

 

They laughed as Quincy chirped angrily and snapped his beak.

 

“I know, but he's strictly rationed. Any sign of a bad tummy and he'll be cut off.” Hermione frowned seriously at the owl, who did his best to look innocent. He hooted happily then, as Blaise tossed a biscuit towards him, and snatched it out of the air.

 

“So, Pucey told you not to come in anymore?” Blaise asked.

 

“Yes, told me I wasn’t helping the team by being there because they can’t speak freely. Which I’m sure is a totally valid point. But now I just feel so helpless again. I mean, if you guys hadn’t come over this afternoon, I’m not sure what I’d be doing.”

 

“You need to live, Hermione,” said Ginny. “You need to carry on, fill your days with purpose. As awful as it sounds, work might be the perfect resolution. You were working on Theo’s project, weren't you? Maybe that's what you do to help feel useful, feel close to him? As much as we probably all hate to admit it, we need to let the Aurors do their job. Although I would feel better about the whole thing if Harry was here.” She said all this whilst stuffing her face with biscuits.

 

Hermione couldn't help but smirk; sometimes Ginny emulated her brother perfectly.

 

“I hear what you are saying, Ginny, I just don't know if it would be any use. My concentration just wouldn't be fully there, and the project is too important for me to go in and mess it up!”

 

Before either of her companions could reply her doorbell rang loudly. Hermione stared down in horror at the sleeping boy in her arms, but he remained peaceful. All three adults breathed a sigh of relief, and Blaise offered to get the door.

 

Moments later he came back in followed by a slightly annoyed looking Adrian.

 

“Adrian! Hi, is there any news?” Hermione wanted to leap to her feet but remained seated, cradling Luca gently.

 

“No, sadly not, Hermione,” he said briskly. “It's just I said I would pop round to make sure you were okay.”

 

“Oh, yes of course, sorry my mind isn't quite with it lately.” 

 

“Nice of you, Pucey,” Blaise said with a tone Hermione couldn't quite make out.

 

“Well, least I could do since Hermione is having a tough time of it and all.”

 

“Yes, she is, but all is well. We're here and staying for the evening. I'm guessing, if there are no updates, you'll want to be getting home to enjoy your evening?”

 

“Blaise!” Ginny piped up, shock in her voice. Hermione understood Blaise’s attitude, to an extent: whilst Adrian was only ever doing the right and nice thing, he had a habit of making it look more than it was. She could tell it irked her other half’s best friend.

 

“Not going to introduce me to your son, Zabini?” Adrian said smoothly. “He looks very comfortable in your arms there, Hermione.” His voice softened and smiled at her. “Only eight months to go and you'll have your own to cuddle.”

 

The room went deathly silent, Ginny and Blaise dumbstruck, Hermione unable to breathe, praying she had heard wrong. Her friends turned to look at her, and she glared daggers at Adrian, her face bright red.

 

“WHAT?!” Ginny and Blaise shouted. Before anyone could say anything else, the shouting did what the doorbell had failed to do. The room was filled with piercing screams and cries only a newborn baby can make. 

 

As Ginny rushed to soothe her child and Blaise told Adrian he thought it was time to leave, Hermione sat there wishing she could join baby Luca and howl the room down.

 

~~~

 

**Day 20 (24th July)**

 

“You don't have to do this, Hermione.” Adrian's voice was quiet but still sounded unnaturally loud in the sterilised room.

 

“Yes, I do,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off of the white sheet before her.

 

“Draco’s already seen…”

 

“I don't care! I need to see for myself.”

 

Adrian stepped back then, hands in his pockets and nodded to the man by the slab.

 

“Miss Granger?” the nurse said quietly. “It is not a pretty sight, so please be pre…”

 

“Just do it,” she muttered, hugging herself hard to stop her arms from trembling. She could feel her fingernails digging into her flesh, and her heart was pounding.

 

With a small nod, the man pulled back the sheet, revealing the body to the waist. Hermione looked down, taking in the horrible mutilations that crisscrossed the torso, the old wound in the stomach that looked infected. The arms were severely bruised, and one was twisted unnaturally. It was clear that the Healers had tried to cover up the worst of the injuries, but Hermione could tell from the way the rest of the sheet draped over the legs that one foot was missing.

 

The full horror of it swamped her mind, and she felt her stomach heave in protest. She gave a sob, turning away and covering her mouth. Tears stood in her eyes and Adrian waved to the nurse. There was a slight squeak of the wheels as the body was wheeled away.

 

“Are you okay?” Adrian stepped closer, reaching out and rubbing her shoulders gently.

 

She nodded rapidly, trying to convince her stomach as well as him, and leant on the gurney nearby.

 

“ _ Accio bucket _ ,” Adrian said, waving his wand at the metal bucket that served as the morgue attendant’s waste bin. “Here.” He placed the bucket on the gurney, rubbing her back.

 

“Thanks, but I’m okay.” Drawing a deep, shaking breath, she looked over her shoulder to where the body had been and shivered. She didn’t think she would get that image out of her head for some time. “Who would do something like that...?”

 

“I don’t know, love. It’s a sick world at times. You really didn’t have to see that.”

 

“I did. I wouldn’t have been able to accept the truth without doing this.”

 

Adrian smiled slightly. “You okay to go back home now?”

 

Giving a relieved sigh, she nodded. “It wasn’t Theo, so at least I know he’s still out there somewhere.”

 

Adrian nodded encouragingly, but Hermione could see something in his eyes that said he didn’t fully believe it anymore.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will post on Friday 24th August


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this should have been up a few hours ago... Thank you all for continuing to read this, if indeed you still are...

**Day 35 (8th August)**

 

 **_Nott A Clue_ **   
  
**_Lead Auror reports ‘No New Leads’ in the Hunt for Missing Famous Wizard Nott._ **   
  
_The Auror office has finally responded to the Prophet’s requests for new information in the case of missing Theodore Nott. Adrian Pucey, the Lead Auror on the case, stated: "At this time the Auror Department have no new leads and no new updates for you. We are working tirelessly on the information we have and appreciate the media's discretion. A man's life may be at stake here."_   


_Nott went missing in July, and the Aurors announced early on that the matter was being treated as suspicious. Crime scene analysis stated that blood, found in Nott’s house, had been confirmed as his._

  
_Kidnap for financial extortion seemed most likely but no demands for money, or indeed any kind of ransom, have been received. With no real leads, it has proved difficult for the Aurors to make progress. Nott does not appear to have gained any personal enemies, apart from a few key members of hate groups protesting his relationship with a Muggleborn. Nott has no close family remaining, his mother having died when he was younger, his father during the War._   


_Nott rose to fame a few years ago when he made an initial breakthrough in restoring people's health from the adverse effects from the Cruciatus Curse. He was honoured at last year's Ministry awards ceremony for Outstanding Achievements. The youngest to receive such an honour, he attended the event alongside an array of famous witches and wizards, soon becoming one in his own right. He has remained a firm favourite with our sister magazine, Witch Weekly, and its female fan base. His popularity soared after he was convinced to take part in their Charity Photo Shoot, which featured the readers’ favourite wizards in all their glory._   
  
_Nott was regularly seen on the party circuit with his best friend and two years running Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor, Draco Malfoy. Both men were often seen surrounded by pretty witches, though there were rumours about the two men’s relationship behind closed doors, all hotly denied. It had looked as if Theodore would fight Malfoy for this year’s Eligible Bachelor title, rumours notwithstanding, until he fell for War Heroine Hermione Granger._   
  
_The famous couple began dating over a year ago and have hardly been seen without each other since. Scandal hit early on in their relationship when Nott attacked a photographer at a Quidditch match, breaking the man's camera. There have been many rumours over the last few months of the couple’s intention to tie the knot and settle down. When they would deign to comment, both denied the rumours, Nott stating on more than one occasion that they were not rushing things, and that they had all the time in the world._   
  
_How ironic those words have turned out to be!_   


_Granger has been seen only a handful of times since Nott’s disappearance. It has been reported that she is tirelessly working with the Auror Office, almost hand in hand with Lead Auror, Pucey. Some have made note of the closeness between the two._

  
We can only hope that Theodore Nott is found alive soon! As ever The Daily Prophet will be the first to bring you all the news.   


~~~

 

Hermione heard herself growling under her breath. He had told her, ‘don’t talk to the press’, the last time they had spoken! Unless he was able to explain himself pretty quickly, it wouldn’t be a photographer that got punched this time! She allowed the paper to drop to the floor as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall; she was scared that if she let them, they'd never stop.

 

She looked around her lounge. The pictures that used to stare out at her, at them, were laid down flat or had been removed from the wall. It hurt too much to look at them. The only one that remained upright was the one on her bed. The one that she fell asleep with every night, the only place where she would allow herself to break down, the place where the tears would only stop when exhaustion took over her.  
  
Another glance at the newspaper was enough to fight the tears and bring her anger at Adrian back to the surface, pushing away the hurt and fear that always simmered under the surface.   
  
How dare he speak to the press without discussing it with her first. These sorts of articles rarely helped. Usually, they caused more trouble than good, and the Auror office would be overwhelmed with more false sightings and people who were sure they were helping. The Aurors had to investigate each report, even if the details didn’t fully line up with the facts.   
  
She grit her teeth as she realised that the media would be back to following her again. The last couple of weeks had been a relief as the media interest started to dim due to lack of new information. Thanks to Pucey, they were going to be all over her again!

 

At least he hadn’t blurted out that she was pregnant! Ginny had been hurt that Hermione had not told her sooner--or even at all, as it had been Pucey’s gaffe that had brought the secret out--and the atmosphere had been a little strained for a couple of days.  
  
She stood up and headed for her room. It was time to go and pay a visit to an idiotic Auror! Sometimes she felt like she would be better off if she tried to find Theo by herself!   


~~~

  
Half an hour later she arrived at the Ministry, her demeanour cool, calm and collected, replacing her tired and emotionally strained look. She walked through the corridors, oblivious to the hundreds of faces she passed as if wearing blinkers. She focused on her anger, not wanting to be distracted. She needed this.   
  
As she approached the Auror office, she took a deep breath. Her fists clenched before she released them, pushed open the door and walked through. Her eyes immediately searched out the offending Auror, and she saw him stood next to Malfoy.   
  
Typical.   
  
She grimaced and marched over to them before she could change her mind.   
  
Adrian smiled when he saw her. "Hey, Hermio...."   
  
"What the hell are you playing at Pucey?!" she all but yelled. “‘Don't talk to the press, Hermione, they will only cause problems!’ That's what you said to me two days ago!" She caught sight of a copy of the offending paper out of the corner of her eye; it sat underneath a large book on the desk next to Malfoy’s. Her fingers found the corner of the book, picking it and the paper up. Her furious gaze hadn't left Adrian's face.   
  
His face paled considerably. "You're not going to hit me with a book are you, Hermione?" he asked, his eyes darting between her face and the book in her hand.   
  
"No, I respect books far too much to hit you with one, Pucey. This, however, is far more appropriate for you!"   
  
Before Adrian could move, she dropped the book onto the desk and whacked him round the face with the paper. Her satisfaction didn’t last long though; as she struck him again, the paper flew out of her grip and landed in front of Draco, splashing his soup all over him. Her anger was replaced with a mixture of dread and amusement, as she looked into the pale, fury filled eyes.   
  
"Granger, you really are pathetic, you know that?" he yelled, standing up and storming away. Before he pushed through the door, he stopped, turned and snarled, "Theo's better off where he is than here with you!"   
  
A deathly silence was left after the door slammed behind the angry man. Hermione let the words sink in; they were horrid and hurtful, and deep down she knew--hoped--Draco didn't mean them. They cut as he had intended them to though. She took a shaky breath, feeling Adrian’s comforting hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Come on, let's go to my office and we can talk."   
  
She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak right now, and allowed him to lead her towards the office at the back of Auror Headquarters. Muted chatter broke out as soon as they started to move. She was thankful for the silence being broken, even if they were talking about her. She sat down in the chair she was becoming increasingly familiar with, she had lost count of the amount of times she had now visited this office to discuss the case.   
  
"I'm sorry about Malfoy, Hermione, and I'm also sorry you had to deal with the newspaper this morning. Bloody reporters accosted me at the morgue, over at St Mungo's, and I wasn't in a great frame of mind. Nothing to do with Theo!" he reassured her as he noticed her look of horror.   
  
She drew in some deep gasps of air. Those few words had brought back that awful day, a couple of weeks back. She still wasn't sure what had freaked her out more; the thought that Theo had been dead or looking upon the mutilated body of some poor soul and realising that it could have been Theo. That could still be her Theo’s fate... She hadn't slept for a week after staring upon that horror.   
  
"They just caught me off guard and unfortunately got what they wanted." Adrian's voice interrupted her morbid thoughts.   
  
Hermione watched him as rubbed his face; she had to admit he looked tired.   
  
"I'm sorry for hitting you, Adrian. I just got myself so wound up this morning, I wasn't ready to be surprised by his face on the front page, and my first thoughts were... Well, you can probably guess."   


"It's okay, Mina, I understand. On the plus side, watching Malfoy getting covered in soup was well worth the sting on the cheek."  
  
Hermione couldn't help the smirk that graced her features as she watched Adrian break out in laughter; she decided she would let the use of Theo's nickname for her slide, this time. No one else called her that, except him, and she had no intention of letting anyone else do it now. She figured that, since he seemed to have forgiven her newspaper slapping, now wasn't the time to start on him about something else.   
  
"Well, it certainly wasn't my intention, but I'm not going to lie, it has made my day that little bit better." She giggled.   
  
"I'm beginning to wonder about him though; I have to be honest. He's been acting so strange about this whole case. I can't decide if it's because it's his best friend, or something more sinister. His behaviour around you is somewhat alarming as well. I'm seriously debating whether to take him off the case."   
  
"His behaviour towards me, Adrian, is nothing new. I wouldn't let that cloud your judgement. Draco and I have never been close, not even before all this mess happened. It was always a point of contention with Theo, but I had thought Draco might have looked past our differences, under the circumstances. It would be nice to have an ally in him. He's the only other person who knew Theo as well as I did."   
  
She gave a sudden gulping sob, and before she could help herself, the tears started to fall.   


"Hermione? What's wrong?" Adrian was quickly out of his chair and by her side, taking her into his arms as she sobbed.  
  
"Do you not see, Adrian?” Her words were muffled in his chest, but he could hear her well enough. “I just talked about him in the… the past tense, like he… he’s dead!"   
  
She couldn't help herself then; the tears fell freely. As embarrassed as she knew she would feel when she stopped, she welcomed the comfort that Adrian was offering. Harry was away on Auror business again and Ron… Well, Ron was highly contagious with chickenpox, of all things! It still amazed Hermione to this day that the wizarding world had not managed to cure this simple muggle illness. As such the whole Weasley/Zabini family were avoiding her, and each other, so as not to catch it and give it to any of the babies. She had felt even more lost without them around. It was only now, after Draco had once again displayed no signs of comfort that she realised how lonely she had been feeling.   
  
She wasn't sure how long she allowed Adrian to hold her, but once she had composed herself, he let her go. He moved so he was kneeling in front of her.   
  
"We will do whatever we can to find him, Hermione, but it doesn't hurt to prepare yourself for the worst either. You know we've been here before. I know it's not what you want to hear,” he continued over her attempted interruption, “but it's been over a month, Hermione. I need you to understand that even if we find him, it may not be in the way that we want."   
  
"He's alive Adrian; I need to believe that. I certainly cannot believe he could be like that... that poor man we saw the other week I just can't!"   
  
"I know you need to believe that, sweetheart,  and I hope to Merlin that he is alive, but I need you to be ready for any eventuality, okay? For you, and the baby."   
  
She nodded at him if only to make him feel better. Theo could not be dead. She wasn't sure she could cope without him... She knew she positively could not deal with identifying his mutilated body if that's what it came down to. Before she could focus anymore on that possible horror, Adrian's door flew open and there stood a cleaned up Draco Malfoy.   
  
"Wow, Granger, you move on quick, huh?” He sneered at her.   
  
She pulled herself away from Adrian: it had been an innocent moment between them, but she could now see how it might appear to others, seeing them so close.   
  
"Grow up, Malfoy. I honestly thought you were a better person than this. The way Theo talks about you, I expected more."   
  
"You know nothing, Granger, and do not speak about Theo as if you know him like I do. I'm pretty sure when we find him, he won't be hanging around you for much longer. Although maybe you won't care if Adrian's your latest fancy. Hey, good for you, you’ve found a new baby daddy already!”   
  
Draco didn't know what hit him. She flew across the room in a rage and slapped him. "How dare you! You haven't changed, have you? Still a vile little ferret!"   
  
Before she could hit him again, a strong pair of arms were wrapped around her pulling her away from Malfoy, a red mark rapidly appearing on his alabaster skin.   
  
"Malfoy, this is unacceptable! What the hell are you playing at?" Adrian shouted, fighting to hold Hermione still.   
  
"What the hell are _you_ playing at, Pucey? Can't even wait for a man to be found dead before you jump in on his life?" Draco turned as if to leave the room.   
  
"Wait right there, Malfoy. You seem to be privy to information I'm not if you know Theo to be dead!"   


Draco turned from the door, an incredulous look on his face.

  
"Hermione, I'm sorry,” Adrian said, “I need you to leave. This investigation might have taken a turn."   
  
"Oh, don't be so fucking ridiculous, Pucey! Are you actually saying what I think you are?"   
  
Adrian brushed past Malfoy and threw open his door. "I need Miss Granger escorted from the premises, and taken home immediately. I also want twenty-four-hour security set up around her property for the time being."   


Hermione started to protest, but Adrian silenced her with a look. An Auror Hermione hadn't met before walked up. "You will head home now with Mister Perkins here. I will update you as soon as I can. Trust me, Hermione, this is for your own protection."  


Hermione couldn't argue, even if she wanted to. She looked at Draco's face which if possible seemed to have paled even further than usual. As the door was closing behind her, she heard Adrian's words to Draco.  


"I think it's time you and I had a chat about what secrets you've been keeping from us, don't you, Malfoy?"

 

~~~

 

**Day 44 (17th August)**

 

As expected the Aurors had over a hundred new ‘leads’, but so far none of them had led anywhere. This was the depressing news Adrian was delivering to Hermione. She was sat in his office, called in initially to discuss the situation with Malfoy, but she wanted to talk to him about Perkins. The Auror had been following her around like a lost puppy.

 

“Malfoy is being questioned, daily. To be honest, until I’m satisfied he definitely isn’t involved, he won’t be back on this! Maybe without him potentially leading us down the wrong routes, we might be able to get somewhere. It’s a shame that Justin’s alibi proved truthful. I agree with you, Theo definitely should have reported his threats. Petty though they may have seemed, he's messed up over Theo’s fame.”

 

Hermione glanced around the office, through the window where the other Aurors were working away. Never had her hopes depended on people she barely knew in quite the same way. “Adrian, I still don’t think that Draco did it. Seriously. He’s a bit of a dick, yes, but he’s lost his best friend. If anyone can understand his pain and what that can do to someone, it’s me right now.”

 

“Hermione, I respect you very much, but I need you to trust me on this one. If Draco is found to innocent, he will be released and pardoned, but I need to follow a process otherwise we won’t get anywhere.”

 

Hermione didn’t like it. Theo would love that she was standing up for Draco and siding with him even after everything he had done to her over the years and more recently. She knew that Adrian wasn’t going to change his mind from the tone in his voice. It was moments like this that she wished Harry was here. Her best friend, whilst stubborn, appreciated her gut instinct. He always had. It had got them through many tough days on the run and had even saved their lives on more than one occasion.

 

Adrian was a nice guy, a good Auror but he wouldn't always listen. She wondered if there was even any purpose in bringing up her next point of contention.

 

“Adrian, I’m not comfortable with Perkins stationed outside my door anymore. It’s been over a week. If, as you say Draco is who you suspect, then I’m surely safe with him under house arrest? Blaise and Ginny have even offered for me to stay at theirs. Just to clarify, I don’t intend to, but I’m sure Perkins’ time can be better spent elsewhere.”

 

“Hermione, I don’t intend to leave you in danger.”

 

She huffed in annoyance. “Adrian, do you forget who you are speaking to? My wards are legendary! I have spent many a year refining them from our war days. I’m sure I can safeguard my apartment without someone stood outside.”

 

“How about we compromise a bit? I’ll come by, check out the wards, satisfy myself they’re secure, but continue to visit you after work each day? How does that sound?”

 

“Every day? You only need to visit me if there’s news, Adrian, as much as I appreciate the personal touch.”

 

“Okay, every other day, or when I have important news?” He smiled at her frown. “Give me a break here! You know as well as I do that Potter will break my balls if I let anything happen to you!”

 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, and moments later they were both laughing, and any tension she had been feeling had eased. “Oh, I needed that laugh.”

 

“Me too. I promise to try and make you laugh more often. It makes the day a little better after all. So do we have a deal?” He held out his hand.

 

“I’ll take the compromise, Adrian,” she said, shaking his hand briefly, “but don’t think I won’t challenge you on it again!” She stood up with a sigh. “I’ll make a move and get my wards in order. I guess I’ll see you later then.”

 

“You sure will,” he replied as she walked out of his office.

 

~~~

 

**Day 52 (25th August)**

 

Since it was a nice day, Hermione had felt the need to get out and about, and Ron had been free to accompany her. Together they had done some shopping down Diagon Alley, picking up bits for Freda, some presents for the other babies, and perusing Flourish and Blotts for anything that could help Hermione in her research; even though she was happy to let the Aurors take the lead, there was no need for her to be completely idle!

 

Early on in the case, she had told Quincy to go to Theo. The owl had returned two days later, bedraggled and dejected, but with no sign that he had found anything. Having finally exhausted her books, and all the ones on the subject at Theo’s house too, Hermione wanted to do some more in-depth research into the method owls used to find their owners. She spent an hour chatting animatedly with Róisín, the manager of Eeylops Owl Emporium, but could only really come to the unsatisfactory conclusion that magic was stopping Quincy locate him. Her glare had stopped Róisín in her tracks when she had started to suggest that something more permanent had been at play.

 

Seeing that she was feeling a little melancholy, Ron declared he was going to treat her to lunch and a couple of chilled mocktails. The inside of the Leaky Cauldron was cool and quiet, and Tom quickly took their lunch order, before leaving the pair to their conversation.

 

“How is Demelza doing?” Hermione asked as she took a sip of her drink.

 

“Yea, she's really good! It's been an adjustment…” He scoffed then. “Who am I bloody kidding? It’s been life changing!” he chuckled. “I got a wife and a baby, almost at the same time! I'm surprised I haven't gone mad!”

 

Hermione laughed at that. “Well, you certainly went all out, didn’t you? It's suiting you though, Ron! I’ve never seen you so happy and content.”

 

“Thanks, Mione. Soon, it’ll be just Harry we need to settle down and have a sprog!” he laughed loudly at his own joke.

 

“Thank you, Ron,” she said with a smile.

 

“What for?” he asked, confused.

 

“For not talking about Theo in the past tense, or worse, pretending he doesn't exist.”

 

Ron reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Well, I have faith. Being one of the lucky few to have loved you means Theo and I have something in common. I for one don't believe any of the bullshit the papers are spouting about him running away or faking his own death! Theo Nott was helplessly in love with you, and anyone who cared to look could see that. He’s out there, I know it! You need to focus on growing that little baby of yours so that your family is complete once Theo comes back. Okay?”

 

Her eyes were filled with tears, and she smiled a watery smile at him. “Sometimes, Ronald Weasley, you say the perfect thing at the perfect time.”

 

He squeezed her hand before letting it go, sitting back and smiling at her. “It’s been known to happen. Usually once every ten years or so. Demelza is yet to witness it, and yet somehow she's stayed with me!”

 

They laughed then, their food turning up shortly after. They thanked Tom and Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes. Ones of laughter this time.

 

“Well, on the topic of Harry, I think he's found the other half!”

 

“Who? Not Pansy?” Ron almost choked on his steak.

 

“Yes! Really, Ron, who else has he been mooning over for months?”

 

“Well, true, but really? Pansy Parkinson? Harry's told me it's only a fling!”

 

“Ron, be real! Surely you've seen more of them than I have! Does that look like a ‘fling’ to you?”

 

Ron shovelled some more food into his mouth, talking around his mouthful. “True, but seriously, Pansy Parkinson? Bloody hell. Has she had a personality transplant?”

 

“It would appear not,” she replied dryly. “This pasta is great; the food has improved here lately.”

 

“Don't try and change the subject! Merlin, this is like you dating Malfoy? What is it with you two and Slytherins?” Ron joked.

 

“Hey!” She swotted him **.**

 

He laughed. “At least Theo is a nice guy.”

 

She put her fork down. “He is. I'm so annoyed at the Auror office at the moment though. The mess up with the news story a couple of weeks ago and the mass of false leads coming in. There’s just no news, nothing! It seems to be one wrong turn after another. I don't think they even have a suspect now that they've finally stopped pointing the finger at Malfoy and half their own team!”

 

“It is odd,” Ron agreed, “and frustrating! I still don't understand why Harry didn't stay on it, but hey I'm not an Auror anymore. I know the department politics have changed a lot. They started taking people who are too close to victims or suspects off the case. Said it wasn't professional. They're trying too hard to copy the Americans, I think. Why change something that works for us? It's not like we have as big a talent pool as MACUSA. I mean, Merlin, half of our Aurors were turned or killed during the war, and that's a lot of experience lost right there!”

 

“Harry has been spending a lot of time in America lately. I miss him, of course, but if Harry were here I would also feel more at ease, more listened too, you know? Adrian is great, but he's no Harry.”

 

The noise level picked up around them, and they finished their food in silence for a few moments. She glanced up and saw Ron looking pained.

 

“Ron? What is it?” She was worried.

 

“Look, you didn't hear it from me... although of course, he’ll know you did…

 

“Hear what? Ron, what is it? You know what I say about failure to communicate...”

 

“Oh, don't do the impression, Mione, please. You know your American accent is terrible…”

 

“It is not, and don't change the subject!”

 

“Harry is back…

 

“WHAT?” she yelled, her fork clattering against the now nearly empty plate.

 

“...but only for a flying visit! He hasn't told anyone, but he told me yesterday he was flying in. He's literally in the office for a day and then back to America this evening. Before you ask, I don't know anything about the case. He just told me he was under-resourced in America and needed to come back to address a few things... Hey, where are you going?”

 

Hermione was now rushing to collect her things, throwing some money on the table before heading over to the Floo.

 

“I need answers, Ron. I need to see Harry!”

 

~~~

 

She exited the Floo directly into Harry's office and came face to face with her exhausted looking friend.

 

“Hermione! Hi… I...”

 

Before she could say anything, the Floo activated once more, Ron stumbling out.

 

“I see you did a good job of not saying anything to anyone, Ron,” Harry greeted him wryly.

 

“Harry James Potter, I am so pleased to see you!” Hermione breathed as she hurried over to hug him. “But I want answers too,” she added sternly as they broke apart.

 

“Yeah, I thought as much. It's good to see you guys too. Pull up a seat.” With a flick of his wand, he slanted the blinds so no one could see in and sat down again. He looked over at Ron, with a mock glare. “Any chance you told Pansy too?”

 

Sheepishly, Ron shook his head. “Sorry, mate. Mione only found out because she badgered it out of me!”

 

She gasped and slapped his arm, his grin infectious. “I did not! I tell you, Harry, it's a good job he's not undercover or anything. He almost looked in pain, trying to keep it quiet!”

 

Harry laughed at Ron's red face. “Thank goodness Pansy doesn't know. If she finds out I'll be in even worse trouble!” he said, knocking a pen off his desk as he went to grab something.

 

Hermione took this moment to look at Ron pointedly as Harry bent down to pick the pen up. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bloody hell…” he mumbled.

 

“What's happening, Harry?” Hermione burst out. “I honestly don't feel like we've got any further than when you left!” As much as she wanted to just catch up with her dearest friends, all together for the first time in months, she couldn't wait any longer.

 

Harry sighed. “Look, it shouldn't be me telling you this, as I'm not case lead, but…” He took a deep breath then continued, almost in a rush. “I'm being made to bring some Aurors off the case.”

 

“What?!” she cried out angrily. “Harry!”

 

“Something is happening in America, and we are supporting it. The Minister has instructed us to... swap priorities. It's been two months since Theo disappeared…”

 

“Fifty-two days,” she said through her teeth.

 

“...and as such we are being pressured to be more resourceful with our teams.”

 

Hermione lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to stop it from trembling.

 

“Bloody hell, mate. Way to drop the bad news,” Ron grunted at Harry, holding onto Hermione's other hand and rubbing her back.

 

Harry had the decency to blush. “Look, Adrian is still the lead on this. He’ll still be working on it daily, just with a slightly smaller team, that's all. I'm really sorry, Hermione.”

 

“Harry, this worries me. The longer he isn't found….” She couldn't finish the sentence.

 

“You don't have to tell me, Hermione. Look I'm here for about four more hours, and in that time I'll catch up with Pucey, see if I can offer any more help.”

 

“Okay, Harry. Thank you.”

 

“I'm sorry I can't do more, but these stupid rules don't allow me to be any more involved than I already am.”

 

“It's not your fault, Harry, I just really want him back.”

 

“I know.” He stood up then and came round the desk, gave Ron a slap on the back and, as Hermione stood, he enveloped her in a big hug.

 

“I promise, I'll be back soon, and err… if anyone does happen to see Pansy? Can we pretend this visit didn't happen?”

 

The three friends laughed then, and for a moment it was like old times.

 

~~~

 

The following morning, the fifty-third since Theo had vanished, three headlines flashed across the wizarding world. Depending on the paper the slant was different, but none were positive.

 

**_Theodore Nott runs away to escape war heroine girlfriend._ **

 

**_Did Theodore Nott fake his own death to escape Hermione Granger?_ **

 

**_Theodore Nott suspected dead._ **

 

~~~

 

**Day 60 (2nd September)**

 

“Hermione, dear,” Jean said, holding her hand, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself! You’re pregnant…”

 

“Thank you, I hadn’t forgotten,” she snapped, pulling her hand back, ignoring the sad look on her mother's face. “There’s no one else that cares enough to find him anymore, so I’m doing it myself.”

 

“Don't snap at your mother,” Robert said sharply. “I know you’re hurting, and you want answers; you never did like leaving a mystery unsolved. This is not good for the baby though, all this extra stress, the late nights… You need to rest!”

 

“This isn't just some random mystery to be solved, dad. This could be Theo’s life we're talking about. It’s been two months, and there’s been _no_ word!”

 

“And we're as worried about him as you are, but you will do you and the baby no good by running around all hours of the day and night.”

 

“I…”

 

“Or _reading_ until you fall asleep!” he said, knowing exactly what Hermione had been about to say. “All you're doing is going over the same ground those whatchamacallits… Aurors... have already gone over. You're not likely to find anything they haven't already considered, I'm sure. They seem pretty competent if a little understaffed. That Adrian fellow promised to keep you up to date on any developments.”

 

Hermione huffed and slumped back on the sofa. “I just want to find him. I want to help if I can.”

 

“You are an extremely bright and logical woman, and I'm sure if they have questions they will come to you.” Jean sat next to her, reaching for her hand again and pulling her into her a hug. “But you are not an Auror, Hermione. You're an expectant mother and should be looking after yourself.  Too much stress could cause… well, I'd rather not think about it.”

 

Hermione's hand went automatically to her belly. She wasn't showing yet, was only a couple of months pregnant, but she still imagined she could feel the tiny life growing within her. She didn't know what she would do if anything happened. As the weeks went by, the baby was starting to feel like her last link to Theo.

 

She couldn't let it go, however. Despite assuring her parents that she would slow down, take better care of herself, she still stayed up late, reading true-life crime books about kidnappings, poring over old Auror case files she had smuggled out of their office, reading about tracking spells, breaking concealment charms. She needed to know, and that need kept her awake long into the night.

 

A few days later a midnight stroll through Diagon Alley, her mind muddled, and thoughts scrambled, led her off the main route. A wizened hag offered her something to help her bring a horrible curse on those that had upset her. Looking around, suddenly horribly aware of her location, she tried to smile politely at the hag before backing away.

 

Then she stopped, her mind sharpened, focused to a point. If the books she had couldn't help...

 

She turned back to the hag, who had begun to retreat back into her little store on Knockturn Alley. “I don’t need a _curse_ … but, I wonder, could you help me with something else?”

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will post on Monday 27th August


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all read the tags, right?
> 
> Okay then...

**Day 70 (12th September)**

 

Adrian was as good as his word and was keeping her updated. Those updates were pretty sparse. In all honesty, there was no news. The only development was Theo was now officially being classed as presumed dead as opposed to missing. Adrian had recently been forced to change the case. He had offered to come over, but she had refused. She had told him she was fine. In reality, nothing could have been further from the truth.  
  
She had taken to sleeping at Theo's house. It was unlikely that anyone would expect to find her there. As soon as the Auror cordons had come down, she had been permitted to visit. Adrian had come with her the first time, and it had been traumatic. Together, almost in silence, they had tidied up the shattered glass, repaired the broken table, and scrubbed at the carpet to try and get rid of the blood. She had refused to use magic, not even understanding why herself.  
  
Adrian, to his credit, had kept quiet, seemingly recognising her need to do this herself and just waited until she had finished. He looked as though he wanted to question her at one point when she covered the larger blood stain by the fire with a rug rather than trying to clean it but wisely held his tongue. Once the house looked right again, excluding the carpet, he had taken her back to her flat. She had told him she would not be visiting there again until Theo returned.  
  
She lied.  
  
She had been back, and she kept going back. For the first couple of weeks, she had spent most of her evenings looking at the bloodstained carpet by the fire, before researching every possible connection to the case. The blood had been her motivation, even at two in the morning when she was fighting sleep and knowing that the following day she would pay for her lack of sleep at work. Not that she was all that effective anyway. Generally, her time at work was spent in a bubble of silence; no one knew what to say to her, so they tended to leave her alone. She gravitated to less demanding tasks for the team, things that required attention but minimal skill, a simple focus of mind on repetitive work. It helped block out some of the pain.  
  
As the weeks wore on and she slowly exhausted all research avenues during her downtime, the blood stain came to represent the loss she felt. She had then taken to visiting his house to feel closer to him. She suddenly appreciated his clean and tidy house. It was Theo, neat and together; she was the messy one in this relationship. She started visiting his home every day.

 

Then she had found his chain.

 

It lay, discarded and unnoticed, beneath the large bookcase next to the fireplace. She found it purely by chance while she was searching for a book she knew that Theo had bought. Sleep-deprived and clumsy she pulled the drawer at the base of the bookcase out too far, jerking it off of its runners and onto her foot. After swearing to make herself feel better, she checked inside the revealed cavity, just in case anything had fallen out of the drawer. The chain was laying on the carpet underneath.

 

Seeing it brought a flood of memories back; the first time she had spoken about it with him, the story behind it and the reason he would never take it off, their Christmas together when she had given him the key pendant. Soon after that Christmas, he had given her an actual key, one to his house. She had joked about it not being the key to his heart, as she had given him, but he claimed it was the same thing. After all, he was giving up his bachelor pad for her.  
  
She didn’t know why he wasn't wearing it, but the fact that he wasn't cemented in her mind that he had been taken, and wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t sure whether she felt better about that thought, as it only lent credence to the theory that he had been killed. She had heard Dawlish speaking to Roberts at the office one day as they walked past, not realising she was there, saying it was a bad sign that no one had contacted them about any kind of ransom.

 

She grabbed the chain and left the house determined to show Adrian and make him see that Theo hadn’t run. She could at least have that if nothing else.

 

~~~

 

**Day 72 (14th September)**

 

As little as it was, it answered at least one question, ticked something off the list; it helped in a strange way.

 

She mused on this as she scooped chicken from the saucepan, setting it aside while the sauce came together. Ginny, Blaise and baby Luca were joining her for dinner this evening. It was a nice distraction to have these days. Ginny hadn’t arrived back from visiting Luna on one of her rare visits back to England. The life of a Magiozoologist was one of travel and study, so Ginny rarely got to see her friend from one year to the next it seemed; they had a lot to catch up on.

 

Hermione and Blaise were catching up too while waiting for Ginny to return.

 

“This smells amazing, Hermione.”

 

“Well, I'm not a great cook, but I'm doing my best. It’s nice to be able to cook for more than one person, to be honest, Blaise.”

 

“Yeah, I can’t cook for toffee… still. Much to Molly’s disgust. La mia mamma, buonanima, would turn in her grave if she tasted my tomato sauce!”

 

She laughed. “I’m sure it’s not _that_ bad!”

 

“No? I’ll let you be my first test subject. I bet you, any money, instant food poisoning!”

 

She quickly took a lid off a pan as it started to bubble over. “Okay, okay, maybe you can gift it to Draco first.”

 

“No, he already knows not to accept my cooking. Although, did you hear? He's been cleared by Pucey and is back at work?” Blaise snuck a piece of the chicken that was waiting for the sauce.

 

“No, I hadn’t heard! Adrian didn’t mention that! He’s usually so good at popping over every couple of days for a chat, even if there isn’t anything. I’d have thought this would qualify as news I should be aware of... and OI! Hands off!” She smacked his hand away from a second attempt to steal more chicken.

 

He sniggered, but removed his hand. “From what Draco’s told me, he’s been working all hours since being let back on the case. Pucey wasn't happy about it, but Draco kicked up such a stink... I don’t know, he's so bipolar sometimes, but I know this whole thing with Theo has truly messed him up. I just wish he’d open up to me, but he's not the type.”

 

“I haven’t ever thought it was Draco, to be honest. He has many faults but, other than his personal dislike of me, he has always been a good friend to Theo.”

 

“He has, but he's also full of secrets, and I can understand why he does himself no favours from the Aurors’ point of view.” He moved over to the fridge, opening it as he spoke, and pulled out two bottles of butterbeer. “You want one?”

 

“Please.” She waved her wand, and the dishes started to wash themselves, the chicken poured itself into the saucepan with the sauce. She took the bottle from Blaise and beckoned that they could move into the living room.

 

Just as they sat down on the sofa, the doorbell rang.

 

“Who can that be now?” she sighed, standing up.

 

She moved down the hall and opened the door to reveal Adrian.

 

“Oh, hello!” She moved to let him in, but he declined politely.

 

“I remembered you mentioned you were having visitors tonight but I just wanted to see if you would like an evening out?”

 

“Oh, huh... Sorry, what?”

 

He laughed at her confused face. “I have a function tomorrow that I have to go to... boring old families stuff, but I thought you might enjoy an evening out? I think Blaise will be there and a few old school friends. Just thought it might be fun?”

 

“Umm, I’m not sure if it's really something I should do.” She looked down the hall.

 

“Come on, Hermione, you deserve some relaxing time, amongst friends.”

 

“Well…..”

 

“Come on!” he cajoled smiling.

 

She blushed. “Okay, sure, why not?”

 

“Brilliant! I’ll pick you up at seven?”

 

“Yeah, sure, okay. See you then.” She half waved as he started off back down the hall.

 

She shut the door, a bit dazed by what had just happened and wandered back down the corridor.

 

“Who was it? Blaise asked as she entered the living room.

 

Falling back down onto the sofa, she let out a sigh. “Adrian.”

 

“News?”

 

“No. He's invited me to this shindig you’re going to tomorrow night.”

 

“Adrian has?” he asked gruffly.

 

“Yes, odd isn’t it?” she asked staring at him.

 

“Well odd in context, I suppose, but not that people want to spend time with you, Hermione. Or that you don’t deserve some time out, to take your mind off things. But…”

 

“What?” She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

 

“You’re not keeping any other earth-shattering secrets from us, are you?” he said, his eyes flicking to her belly.

 

“I beg your pardon?” she almost screeched. “What are you implying, Blaise Zabini?”

 

“I’m not implying anything, love, but don't you think Adrian is getting a bit friendly?”

 

“I’m sure it's nothing, and there’s certainly nothing going on! Harry’s probably just been on his case to make sure I’m being looked after and kept in the loop. This is just his way of helping to keep me from getting stuck in my own head as you said.”

 

“Hmm..” Blaise frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’m sure that's all it is.”

 

Hermione heard the note of distrust in his voice, slightly annoyed at his constant antagonism towards Adrian, but before she could call him on it, the dinner alarm emitted from her wand and the Floo announced Ginny's imminent arrival at the same time.

 

The moment was gone, and neither she nor Blaise mentioned it again that evening. She couldn’t help the uneasy, awkward feeling she had later when she thought of Adrian and his invite as she crawled into bed.

 

~~~

 

**Day 73 (15th September)**

 

The following evening she was stood amongst a crowd of people where there were few friendly faces.

 

This event Adrian had invited her too was full of purebloods for her taste. Mainly Slytherins, but there were a few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw classmates she recognised, few of which she would go out of her way to speak to.

 

She noted Draco wasn't there.

 

Much to her annoyance, both Blaise and Ginny had contacted her to say that they were both suffering a sickness bug and wouldn't be able to attend tonight. As it turned out almost the entire Weasley family had now been struck down with it, so an event which should have been filled with Weasley's, according to Blaise the previous night, was now void of them all. Leaving her very much the oddity in this crowd.

 

She looked down at the dress she was wearing and felt out of place. It was nothing to do with the dress, but it was easier to project it to that than to question why she had agreed to such a thing; it was starting to feel like a date, which was obscene. She was now worrying that everybody else thought that too.

 

Her saving grace was that the press was banned, otherwise, she could imagine the headlines.

 

They had been there for an hour or so when she lost Adrian, which she was thankful for. He had started talking to an old school friend, a Slytherin boy who had been in the year above him, Warrington she thought his name was. She'd managed to escape to the bathroom and then to the bar.

 

She sat at a corner table, nursing a disguised butterbeer so no one would question her drinking choice. Her heart panged as a wave of emotion washed over her. If Theo had been here, she wouldn't be sat alone, avoiding people. She would have been wrapped up in him. She enjoyed winding him up, but she adored him; the way he spoke, the way he managed to engage an audience and light up a room. She knew she was the only person to make him fumble and she loved that. Her Theo, silently confident in everything he did.

 

A group of witches sashayed past her, and she spotted Pansy Parkinson. They stood at the bar nearby, their voices floating over. She couldn't help but overhear their conversation and when her name was mentioned she tuned in.

 

“I'm surprised to see Granger here, all things considered,” said a blonde woman to the left of Pansy, waving at the waiter to get his attention as she spoke.

 

“And didn't she arrive with Pucey?” the brunette next to her responded, also trying to catch the waiter's eye. “What exactly is that all about? The way the press talk I thought Theo was the love of her life.”

 

“Well, ladies,” Pansy said, a hint of spite in her voice, “as I've said all along--ever since Theo's head was turned away from my cousin--all she is after is pureblood money and status. Theo is out of the picture, so on to the next!” She leaned closer to her blonde companion and with a quieter voice said, “The only problem is that Theo is the one paying the price for this. She should have known that the pureblood community wouldn't be happy and we all know they have acted in ways like this before now to protect the bloodlines from being tainted.”

 

The waiter finally turned up, and for a moment their attention was focused on him, and the talk ceased.

 

Hermione took a moment. She needed to breathe, right now the anger coursing through her was so intense she felt she might combust at any moment. Her grip on her bottle was causing her pale knuckles to whiten further.

 

Before she could do anything the brunette spoke up, louder than before, “So, you think someone we know has taken him... or worse?”

 

Pansy looked at her, a sneer on her lips. “How do _I_ know, Giselle? All I'm saying is that it should have been considered by both of them. Maybe Theo would have been better off never breaking up with my cousin.”

 

Hermione watched them pick up their drinks and head towards her again. Hermione thought she had been unnoticed during the exchange, but Pansy gave her a look of disgust as the girls walked past but didn't say anything.

 

Her mind racing, Hermione stood and Apparated to the Ministry. Striding through the darkened building, she ignored the few people still present, even as they goggled at her. The first person she saw as she entered the Auror office was Dawlish. He looked at her in surprise.

 

“Evenin’ Miss. Need another favour?”

 

“Good evening, John. No, nothing like that. Where's Malfoy?”

 

“Not sure, Miss. I ain’t seen him all evenin’.”

 

“If he comes back tonight, can you ask him to get in touch?” she asked, thwarted.

 

“Certainly. Can I help at all?”

 

“No, thank you though. I think it's something Malfoy needs to hear.”

 

She wanted to tell him what she had heard. She knew Adrian wasn't on duty, and she had also seen the five firewhiskeys he had put away, not long after they had arrived. She needed someone she could rely on to pick this up.

 

She snorted; relying on Malfoy? Probably not a great idea. Once again it looked like the only person she could rely on was herself; she was making some headway with her research, but it wasn't going fast enough for her liking. If Malfoy contacted her, maybe she could talk to him about it. If anyone knew about that sort of thing, it would be the Malfoys!

 

Making up her mind she quickly scribbled a note, making it vague to avoid any questions should anyone else read it. “Could you pass him this as well?”

 

“Not a problem, Miss.”

 

With a nod to Dawlish, she Apparated home, forgetting to let Adrian know she had left the party.

 

~~~

 

**Day 74 (16th September)**

 

Black bags under the eyes, face breaking out in spots from stress and lack of sleep, a near constant headache, regular bouts of morning sickness nearly twelve weeks into the pregnancy... Hermione stared into her hand mirror and tried to do something with her hair, giving up after a minute, realising it was a lost cause. Brushing the mop into something approaching a tail she secured it with a hair tie and shrugged as the bushy hair stuck out in all directions from the back of her head.

 

 _I feel_ _like shit,_ she thought as the miles rolled by outside the cab’s windows, _look it too_. She knew that her mum and Molly were beside themselves worrying about Hermione's health and that of the baby. Everyone was giving up on Theo, believed him dead and his body hidden somewhere. She wasn't going to give up on him though!

 

It had been nearly three months since he had been taken--not killed, taken--and the Aurors didn't seem to care anymore. Adrian and Draco still worked on it, separately now that the task force had been disbanded in order to allow them to work on the backlog of cases that had built up.

 

Draco hadn't got back to her last night, not that she was that surprised. It was up to her now. She had stood back for long enough, even though it had killed her to do so, but no more. Over the weeks since Theo’s kidnap she had managed to find every opportunity she could to chat with Roberts, Adrian, and even Dawlish and Malfoy; gathering information on what they had found, what they knew, and suspected, where they had searched. She had kept it all in the filing cabinet that Theo had built for her. Dawlish had been able to get her in to see Mafalda Hopkirk, yesterday morning; it hadn’t been as revelatory as she had hoped, but it had given her something to work with--and a lot of reading to do! She thought she must have read and watched every Muggle true crime story, dramatisation, and documentary available. She knew as much about the subject as she thought she could possibly know, but still, she had no clue where Theo could be.

 

She was fed up of being fed scraps. It was time for her to go it alone and find Theo herself, using everything she had learned, and if she crossed a few lines into… morally grey territory, so be it.

 

She was going to visit Pansy today, pin the woman to the wall if she had to, and get her to tell her everything about the threats she had heard about. Hermione knew that all this upheaval wasn't good for the baby, but neither was her losing Theo. She had to try.

 

If Pansy proved to be a dead end then there was always Ethel; there was no way that was the hag’s real name, but people met in shadowy corners of Knockturn Alley didn’t generally give out their real names. She sat and mused some more on the information she had bought from ‘Ethel’ that night, and the books. She didn’t relish delving into them again too soon; every time she read them they turned her stomach, but she had to clarify something that could connect to her conversation with Mafalda. If there was a way… As distasteful as it might be, if it worked, then it was worth it. She just hoped that the carpet was still a viable source...

 

She was interrupted from her thoughts as the taxi pulled up at the end of the driveway to a large country manor.

 

The cabbie gave a low whistle. “Fancy digs! You sure you're in the right place, sweetheart? This looks a trifle posh for someone like yourself. I don't mean that in a bad way, love,” he added hastily as she frowned. “I know what those rich folks are like, and you don't seem like the sort to put up with that la-de-da rubbish if you get my meaning?”

 

Hermione grinned at that. “You're absolutely right. The lady who lives here is a massive pain in the arse, and my best friend appears to be hopelessly in love with her. I'm stuck with having to make the best of a bad situation.”

 

The cabbie shook his head sadly. “Well, love is a fickle thing, and those poshuns are some of the ficklest I know. Hopefully, your friend will see sense!”

 

“I hope so too,” Hermione said, passing the notes forward. “Keep the change.”

 

“Much obliged, miss.”

 

Composing herself after the cab had gone, Hermione tried to enter the Parkinson estate, but the gate stayed shut. It didn't move when she pushed it, and there was a slight warning crackle of magic as she drew her wand.

 

“Pansy, I know you can hear me. Just open the gate.”

 

There was a small pop as a wizened old house elf appeared just inside the gate. Its ears hung down almost to its chin, and the old sack it was using as clothing was stained and had patches of mould on it. “Miss will state her business,” it croaked suspiciously.

 

“Hermione Granger, here to speak to Miss Parkinson, please.” Hermione was always unfailingly polite to any house elf she encountered. It was clear this one had heard of her and knew of her blood status, and was looking her up and down as if _she_ was the one wearing a mouldy bag. It was typical behaviour from house elves in the service of pureblood families, and she tried not to let it get to her.

 

“Mistress is not expecting guests, Mudblood. She is not receiving petitions from peasants, either.”

 

Hermione’s lips thinned in annoyance. “Please inform your Mistress that if she does not deign to receive me, my next stop will be to contact my friend, Harry Potter. I am certain he will be most interested in what I have to say about how Miss Parkinson deals with his friends.”

 

The elf's ears twitched, and a sour look twisted its lips. “The Mudblood will wait here.” There was a small pop as it vanished.

 

She felt a small spike of pain beginning behind her eye, a precursor to a headache if ever there was one. After a very long couple of minutes there was a clank, and the wrought iron gates began to swing inwards. Hermione gave a small sigh of relief; she had had no intention of contacting Harry, but the threat had evidently been enough. Despite both of their protestations, it was clear that this ‘fling’ the pair were having was more serious than either of them were willing to admit, even to themselves.

 

The house-elf reappeared with a puff of smoke. “The Mudblood will follow Algie,” the elf said in sullen tones.

 

Hermione attempted to engage Algie in conversation, but the elf was monosyllabic, refusing to be drawn. It felt like a long walk up to the house, through the beautifully tended gardens, but she could only focus on the growing knot of pain behind her eye and the churning of her gut. That seemed simply to be nerves about talking with Pansy, but she held her belly all the same.

 

“The Mudblood is unwell?” Algie asked abruptly.

 

“No, I'm fine, thank you,” she said, surprised at the small note of concern in the elf’s voice. “Just a headache and a little nausea.”

 

“Very good. The Mudblood will not vomit on clean floors Algie has scrubbed.”

 

She rolled her eyes. _Figures_. “I will do my best not to, Algie.”

 

The elf let her into the grand entrance hall, instructing her to remove her coat and hand it over. The dark wood panelled walls were polished until they veritably shone, the gothic cornicing decorated with magical runes and figures. The marbled floors were almost mirror-like and Hermione complimented Algie on them.

 

“Algie does not care for the Mudblood's thoughts on his work,” he muttered as he led her through a tall doorway into a large reception room, but Hermione thought there was a small, pleased smile that just lifted the corners of the elf's lips at her words. “Mistress will see you in here. The Mudblood will mind her manners,” he warned, fixing Hermione with a surly stare.

 

Hermione nodded to the elf. “Thank you, Algie,” she said, and the little elf stumped off without a backwards glance, muttering under his breath.

 

Hermione glanced around the room, turning to face the far end, knowing instantly why the Parkinson's received guests here. It was opulently appointed in an old style, but none of it looked shabby. Tapestries hung on two of the four walls, depicting elder members of the Parkinson line no doubt; ancient wizards and witches who glared down on all the occupants with aloof disdain. Paintings hung between them, magical portraits containing more recent family members, the occupants of which appeared to be dozing. The wall behind her was filled with floor to ceiling windows, letting in the autumn sunshine and bathing everything in a warm glow. In the centre of the room were a number of wingback armchairs and sofas, the red leather and rosewood furniture almost shining with an inner light. Above the marble fireplace at the far end was a large, intricately framed mirror that reflected the image of the tall windows back again. Her jaw dropped as she took in the large bookshelves extending outwards from the fireplace to the edges of the room filling the entire wall. Leather bound books, the gold lettering on their spines called out to her, and she would have loved to be able to spend time here just browsing.

 

Pansy Parkinson, dressed in a fine gown of emerald green, lounged on a low chaise set near the unlit fireplace, reading one of the countless books. She looked up lazily as Hermione approached, took her time in marking her place, and set the book aside.

 

“Well, Granger, I did not expect to see you here.” The woman stood, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder. “Are you not filling your days bothering Pucey and Malfoy for news? Not that there is any to be had, of course. Seems that it doesn't stop you, however. You are so annoyingly persistent.” She smirked, her dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Pucey does not seem to mind seeing you though. He did always have a soft spot for the underdog.”

 

“Nice to see you too, Pansy,” Hermione said tightly. “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, Hermione dropped into one of the wingback chairs.

 

Pansy leisurely lowered herself to the chaise again and reclined, the very image of relaxed elegance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I want to know about this threat against Theo you mentioned. Don't try to be coy,” she hissed as Pansy’s eyes opened wide. “I heard you at the party last night, and you know damn well I did. You made sure of it.”

 

“And there was me thinking this was to be a social call. Can I get you a drink?”

 

“No, thank you. I just want to know about who has been threatening Theo.”

 

“All business then, very well. I thought I was quite clear, Granger. Many in pureblood circles are frankly horrified at the Nott family name being shackled to someone of your lowly status, and thought that something should be done to prevent such a travesty.”

 

“And you think they took Theo?”

 

“When something is said often enough it generally follows that action will be taken. Whether these dissenters had the audacity to carry out their threat is another matter entirely.”

 

“I need a name.”

 

“You would have had one that meant something if you had managed to trick Theo into marriage.”

 

“Who has been talking, Pansy?” she growled. “Don't play games with me! It's been over two months and my boyfriend, the man I love, is still missing.”

 

Pansy ignored her tone, examining her perfectly manicured nails. “I warned Theo at Christmas when I had him against the wall at the Burrow. I thought I had been perfectly clear about the threat and the interested parties.”

 

“What do you mean?” Hermione felt her stomach clench at those words.

 

“The interested parties, or how Theo was pressed up against me in the twilight? You might have to be more specific…”

 

“I don't believe you,” Hermione said in a small voice.

 

“Believe as you wish, Granger, but Theo was perfectly aware that the letters he was receiving from Laila were more than a fleeting fancy. She really does want him back.”

 

“What letters? Who’s Laila?”

 

“Oh,” Pansy said with a surprised look, “I thought he would have mentioned her to you!” Her simper cut through Hermione, making her heart skip a beat. “Laila is my dear cousin. She and Theo were quite the cute couple before you came along. He broke the poor girl's heart, leaving her the way he did.”

 

“I don't know anything about this Laila.” _And why had Theo never mentioned her, or the letters?_

 

“Well, well, that _is_ a surprise. And there was me thinking you and Theo had such an _open_ and _honest_ relationship!”

 

“Cut the sarcasm, Parkinson. Are you saying your cousin may have taken Theo in order to win him back? That's absurd!” _Almost as absurd as Theo not telling her about Laila..._

 

Pansy waved a hand lazily. “Laila, who was Theo’s first real love, by the way, is not the sort to kidnap someone. Nor is she strong enough to overpower Theo, though she could have obtained help, I suppose. Theo was almost family, you know? Practically a son to my Aunt Lucrezia.” Pansy looked towards the window then glanced at Hermione from the corners of her eyes. “She was not happy to lose him either.”

 

 _First love… letters... he never lied… but he omitted, which is just as bad…_ “Where are they?”

 

“You think I would turn on family, Granger? What do you take me for?” Pansy made a good show of gasping and placing a hand on her chest. “Besides, Pucey knows all this already. I suppose he thought that you and Theo would have talked about Laila by now.” A slow, wicked smile crossed her lips. “Or maybe he was waiting for the right moment to tell you about Laila, in the hope it would send you into his arms? Oh, I do hope I haven’t spoiled his surprise…”

 

“Very funny. Adrian has been nothing but kind to me and has never overstepped. He may have liked me in that manner, once upon a time, but we are long past that now.” _Is he though?_

 

“Are you now?” Pansy made a show of considering this. “That makes one of you, at least.”

 

“Theo's my world, Pansy. It doesn't matter if Adrian has feelings for me, nothing is going to happen between us.” She noticed Pansy's eyes flick down and hurriedly moved her hand away from her belly. She hadn't noticed that she had been holding it again, but that nausea still churned, and there was an ache that spoke of a cramp coming. Her head was screaming in pain, the knot behind her eye now a ball of fire. There was a calculating look in Pansy's eyes that Hermione didn't care for.

 

The thought was driven out of her mind then as a spike of agony lanced through her. It gripped her abdomen like a vice and squeezed. A cry of pain burst from her, and she clutched at her belly, her baby, fear shooting through her.

 

She barely saw Pansy sit up abruptly. Hermione's eyes were clouded with tears, and blood pounded in her head.

 

“Algie!” Pansy cried, standing and hurrying over to Hermione. In a puff of air the elf appeared. “Summon the family Healer, now!”

 

“For the Mudblood?” Even through her pain, Hermione could hear the disdain.

 

“Yes, NOW, you miserable thing!” There was another pop as the elf vanished. Pansy was kneeling in front of Hermione and reaching out to touch her knee. “The Healer will be here soon…”

 

“I don't need your help, Parkinson,” she grated, stubbornness warring with panic. She pushed herself upright, grunting as another cramp pulled her off balance.

 

“Circe, you _are_ pregnant, aren't you! Hermione, please, let me help you…”

 

“No,” she said, pushing away and staggering towards the door. “You've done enough!” She fumbled for her wand.

 

“No, Hermione, it’s too dangerous! Don't…”

 

She heard no more as the swirl of Apparition dragged her away to St Mungo's.

 

~~~

 

The junior Healer had run immediately to find Hermione's midwife the moment she identified herself. Left alone for the moment she sank into the large chair in the corner of the reception area. Her hands shook as another terrible cramp wracked her body. _Please, no, don't do this little one… please hold on, please…_

 

“Hermione!” Adrian came to her side in a rush, kneeling down and holding her hand. “Merlin, you're shaking. What's wrong, what's happened? Where did you go last night? I looked everywhere for you.”

 

She had no idea why Adrian was here but was unable to focus on that now. Hermione gritted her teeth to stop them from chattering as a wave of cold flooded her body. “Why didn't you tell me about Laila, Adrian?”

 

“Laila? Laila Parkinson?” He shook his head. “Because she is unimportant; investigated, a negligible threat… I thought you knew! Did Pansy tell you about her?”

 

“Amongst other things…”

 

Adrian reached out and pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. She was feeling too weak to fight him off, even though she rebelled against the intimacy of his gesture. “You don’t need to worry about Laila. I don’t know why Theo never told you, but I’m sure he had his reasons.”

 

“Adrian, please let go… there’s a...” She cried out then as another cramp, this one the strongest yet, shot through her.

 

He pulled away abruptly. “Are you okay? Oh, Merlin… the baby…?”

 

“Adrian, shut up!” she hissed, but it was too late. Hermione had seen the reporter over Adrian’s shoulder, stalking closer, no doubt hoping to get a perfect shot of them _in flagrante delicto_. Her heart sank as the man’s eyes lit up at this scoop.

 

“Miss Granger! Mister Shiftly, Daily Prophet! Did I hear right that you’re pregnant?” The man almost ran closer, his Quick-Quotes Quill already scribbling furiously. The reporter had already taken two pictures before Adrian had got to his feet.

 

“Leave her be, Shiftly!”

 

“Is the baby Theodore Nott’s? Did he know about the baby before his disappearance? Or is it _yours_ , Mister Pucey, and _that’s_ why Theo ran off?”

 

Adrian growled, reaching for him and snatching nothing but air as the lithe man dodged to the side. Hermione moaned as another cramp twisted her guts, even as she staggered to her feet and tried to get away.

 

“Hermione, wait!” Adrian called. She saw him clutching the reporter’s collar and hauling him back. Shiftly’s camera was floating after her by itself, taking pictures as fast as it could and the Quick-Quotes Quill had filled several pages already. There were two reporters in front of her now. She recognised them both; one from Witch Weekly, the other from the radio station, _Wizarding Wireless Network_. They were both shouting questions at her, blocking her escape from the hospital.

 

“... is this why Theo left? … did he find out about you and Adrian Pucey? … what is Laila Parkinson's connection to Theo’s disappearance? … when is the baby due?”

 

Hermione turned on the spot, her thoughts reeling, just needing to escape. As she felt the pressure of Disapparition grip her again, she saw the panicked face of the midwife, her mouth wide as she called for her to stop. There was a clenching pain and a flood of warmth spread through her stomach as she landed in the hallway of her flat, clutching the wall to stay upright.

 

The warmth spread downwards, and she gave a cry as the thick liquid began to trickle down her leg.

 

~~~

 

The water was hot, almost enough to scald. It wouldn’t wash away the pain inside though. The heat was doing nothing to distract her. Hermione stood, back to the room so she couldn’t see her clothes and the terrible sight behind her. Her skin was wrinkled and red, but still, she shook as if chilled.

 

Her near crawl up the hall to the bathroom had been a blur of pain and grief. She barely remembered clawing her way out of her clothes, leaving them in a bloody tangle on the clean tiled floor. She felt numb, turning on the shower, even as her body clenched and expelled more blood onto the tiles. Choking back a sob she had thrown herself under the hot stream, wanting it to drown her, to sear the pain from her body.

 

Her legs couldn’t support her any longer, and she sank slowly to the floor of the cubicle. Her eyes watched as the blood that still trickled from her swirled and spun around the plughole; dark, inky tendrils that carried her last link to Theo away.

 

She didn’t know when she started to cry, but once the dam had been breached, there was no way to stop it.

 

~~~

 

She pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders with trembling hands. Her lips were still blue with cold, and her whole body shook uncontrollably. Ginny had cast a warming charm around her and pushed her to drink the cup of tea, but every time she tried she spilt more than she drank. In the end, Blaise transfigured a spoon into a straw, and she had managed some. It wasn't helping though.

 

At some point her boiler had cut out, changing the hot water in the shower to ice, but still, she hadn't been able to summon up the energy to move. The sobs had wracked her body, and the cold leeched any energy she might have had left. Ginny's scream of shock had woken her from her stupor. She remembered her friend had been shouting for Blaise to open the window, which had startled a roosting bird from the sill. Ginny shut off the water to the shower, wrapping Hermione in a large towel and holding her close, her cheeks wet with tears. Hermione simply clutched at her, holding onto her, a flame-haired raft in the treacherous waters of her life.

 

She was… not lucky, she would never think that in light of everything… but she acknowledged that Ginny and Blaise's arrival and forced entry into her flat had probably stopped her from dying of hypothermia. She was still not sure if she forgave them completely for that intervention.

 

Her midwife had arrived shortly after to check her over. She had let the witch's words wash over her, barely registering them. Cold was all she felt. Numb.

 

Ginny had mentioned something about some kind of funeral; a memorial for the tiny life that her body had rejected, that she had killed with her reckless behaviour. She made noises that must have made some sense, but she didn't know what.

 

She cried in her mother's arms and held her father tighter than she ever had before. She heard the comforting words that Molly, Arthur, and the other Weasleys said without knowing their meaning. Adrian managed to get past Blaise for a few moments to apologise, but she could barely muster the strength to look at him, let alone slap him as she wanted to. Blaise removed the Auror swiftly after that.

 

The only time she managed more than mumbled pleasantries was when Algie appeared in her living room, bearing a basket laden with food and flowers: a beautiful bunch of small, pink, globular flowers--that her mother identified as Sea Pink--and bright white poppies. Hermione had been unable to hold in the smile as the elf shuffled his feet and looked thoroughly uncomfortable in the home of a Mudblood. He even managed to call her ‘Miss Granger’ as he told her about the bouquet, which signified sympathy and consolation. As much as she disliked Pansy, Hermione remembered the look of panic on her face when she had realised what was happening, her attempts to help. Hermione appreciated the gesture for what it was.

 

The days passed, but despite everyone's efforts, the pain stayed. She shut herself off from everyone. Nothing captured her attention. In her self-imposed exile, there was nothing to fill her time with but to dwell on her loss. There was a void in her soul where there used to be a purpose.

 

She shoved her stack of research off the table in a fit of pique one day, her illegally obtained copy of _Ex Sanguine Nox Sinister_ clattering loudly to the floor. She wiped away the foul feeling the suspicious binding always left on her fingers.

 

What good was it now?

 

Theo was dead. She had to accept that. He was gone and never coming back. Their baby was dead.

 

There was nothing left of Theo but memories.

 

~~~


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 5

**Day 101 (14th October)**

 

Another day dawned, and Hermione reluctantly stirred from her fitful sleep. Dreams of Theo coming home. He never came with love, only anger and accusations for murdering their baby, for failing him. She hadn't slept at all for the first few days after it had happened.

 

Her friends tried to help her, to jolly her along and invite her over, to meet for lunch. Most of them had babies of their own, however, and though part of her wanted to see how they were doing, how her godson was developing and changing, she didn't think she could handle it. Meeting Ginny for brunch once had caused her to break down, simply at the sight of her.

 

Her parents tried harder, and it was easier with them because there were no children. Still, she pulled away though, refusing to come out of her shell.

 

Theo was old news now. She still got the Daily Prophet delivered, more out of habit and the lack of motivation to cancel her subscription. There was next to nothing about the case in its pages these days. What little there had been had almost stopped a week after she had miscarried. Witch Weekly had run a few stories on Theo's alleged affair with Laila Parkinson and the girl herself, young and attractive with bright blue eyes and raven black hair, had given an interview stating that Hermione had stolen the love of her life from her. It was a short-lived run though. With no comment or rebuttal from Hermione, the papers lost interest. They had even tried to say that there was something going on between her and Adrian, but that hadn't flown either. The fact that Hermione was now a recluse and that Adrian was seen daily in the office until late and didn't seem to have a social life outside of his work, put paid to that. She was sure he stayed late to keep working on Theo’s case, even though any leads they had were cold.

 

There was no story there for the papers, move on to the next tidbit of scandal.

 

There was a short, retrospective piece on Draco dropping out of the party circuit; it had happened almost the moment Theo had been taken, but the paper was running out of things to print it seemed. The eligible witches were distraught at losing both their heartthrobs. Hermione knew that he, too, was working hard during the day on all the new cases he was given, but out of working hours, he sat late into the night, poring over all the information they had on Theo’s case. Despite working near to each other, she got the impression that the two men were working independently, determined to crack the case. Their reasons were probably very different though. Adrian contacted her with updates by owl mostly, heeding her wish for privacy; he tried to coerce her out, not wanting her to stay in solitude, and his letters were always warm and friendly.

 

She sighed and looked around Theo's room, everything exactly as she had left it, as he had kept it.

  
Two weeks ago she came back here, determined to collect their memories. If Theo was thought to be truly gone by the Aurors, then she knew she needed to take what she could of their shared life to remember him by. She wasn't his next of kin and sooner or later her access would be revoked. It may be that what family of his was still around would sell the house and pick over the scraps, but until he was declared legally dead, they couldn't touch it. That didn't give her authority to be here either, but she was anyway.

 

She still held onto a small stubborn thought: she wouldn't believe he was dead until she saw the evidence for herself. That didn't mean others would have the same belief though.    
  
The two weeks had now passed, and she still hadn't managed to face moving anything from its place to take to hers. What she had found was solace in sleeping in his bed.

 

Despite the fact that he had been gone now for so long, she could still smell him on his bedding; the clothes packed neatly in his wardrobe, the aftershave in his bathroom cabinet. She washed using his shower gel, and occasionally wore his clothes. His scent surrounded her, and she finally felt at home again.

 

~~~

  
**Day 124 (6th November)**

 

A few weeks passed, and she was finding it harder to avoid people. She couldn't help needing to get food, and Quincy could only carry so much; people soon found out where she was staying. There were occasional Floo calls and letters delivered by owl. She knew her friends were worried, but they knew where she was and she answered a few of their letters to say she needed time. She knew they would wait for her to come round to seeing them eventually.

 

One person didn't seem to be so aware. Adrian had been knocking on the door daily for the last two weeks, rather than sending an owl as he had previously. She had ignored him. 

 

Today, however, he had changed the time of his visit and caught her off guard as she was putting some rubbish outside.

 

“Hermione!” the voice called to her down the street. She realised all too quickly who it was and that there was definitely no escape from this conversation.

 

It wasn't that it was personal she just wanted to be on her own. She sighed as he hurried towards her.

 

“Hi, Adrian, how are you?” she asked as he came alongside her.

 

“How am I? I'm fine; I'm worried about you! No one has been able to get hold of you for weeks. You stopped accepting my letters...”

 

“I needed some time by myself, Adrian. There has been a lot… to process.”

 

“I understand, Hermione, and I'm sorry once again for any part I played….”

 

“Adrian, it wasn't your fault. I know that.”

 

“Well, I still feel awful. I want to help you.” He reached out to place his hand on her back. She didn't have the energy to shrug him off.

 

“I'm fine, Adrian, and you can let anyone else who might want to know that; that I'm okay. I'm just taking some time to deal with everything. It's difficult to be surrounded by happiness sometimes; I guess this is all part of the grieving process.”

 

“Is there anything I can do? Just to be some non-happy company? I can be miserable too if you'd like?” He said it as a joke, and Hermione gave him a half smile even though his words were actually fairly insulting.

 

This was the exact reason why she wanted to be by herself. People didn't understand but desperately tried too. In their attempts, they didn't realise how far off the mark they actually were.

 

She was intelligent enough not to take it personally, but it didn't make it any easier.

 

The sky, which had been threatening rain all day, had turned a nasty shade of grey and she was sure she could see large drops of rain beginning to fall in the distance.

 

A perfect excuse to end this conversation.

 

“Thanks for checking in on me, Adrian, but I am honestly okay. I just need this for me right now. But if you get any news, then please let me know.”

 

“Of course I will, my love. I'll pop in next week perhaps, to catch up?”

 

The rain started to fall at that moment.

 

“Okay, yeah, that would be great.” Right now she would agree to anything so that he would leave and she could get out of the rain, which had started and gone from light to heavy in a matter of seconds.

 

“Great!” He moved in and enveloped her in a hug. "I just want you to know I'm here, that's all." Before he let her go, he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, and she saw the flash out of the corner of her eye.   
  
Lightning? No. Photographers.    
  
She didn't say any more, just turned and ran into the hallway of the flats, slammed the door and crumpled against it, the pain, confusion and guilt pouring out through her, matching the rain she had just escaped from.

 

~~~

 

She watched the press have a field day with the picture of her and Adrian. She found it maddening that they had all but forgotten she existed for nearly a month, but there was still a reporter willing to stake out her home in the hopes of some sort of scoop.

 

It was the lowest kind of journalism, but a week later they still wouldn't drop it. Every day, somewhere in the papers, there was a mention of her, or Adrian, or the case. Unfortunately, none of it was in a very positive light.

 

There were debates on what she was thinking, what her options were, whether she was likely to start looking for love again. It had been only four months… that thought stopped her though. 

 

Four months! Had it really been that long? How long was she going to hold onto the thought that Theo was alive? Was she really going to pine forever? Maybe those hacks at the Daily Prophet had a point. Perhaps she  _ should _ be beginning to think about the future… moving on.

 

The idea hurt. The thought that she should accept Theo was never coming back. That she should turn her back on him. She had believed it weeks ago, that he really was dead when she was wallowing in the pit of misery, but the idea had never been able to gain traction in her mind for long.

 

The logical side of her brain was nodding sagely, telling her that she wasn't getting any younger, that she was running out of time to have a family, and waiting for a man who was probably dead.   
  
The stubborn side of her thought  _ she _ was a coward, and that her logical side was an insensitive bitch for thinking about having a family this soon after her tragedy. This side of her wanted to dig out her research again, delve into that murky world for an answer, to find him.   
  
She always had been a logical witch though, and logic was currently winning the war, no matter how much she hated herself for that thought. She found herself looking forward to Adrian's visit, and dreading it too.

 

~~~

 

**???**

 

When I wake, finding it to be just as dark as when I first drowsed, an indeterminate while ago, I am forced to reflect upon the vagaries of time itself.   
  
It’s a funny thing, time. Every day it flows, spins, and trickles past you without you really noticing its passing. Unless you are waiting for something, that is. If there is something important—something that you needed to wait for—then time seems to solidify, become visible almost, and you can watch each and every single second tick by with interminable slowness. The best things come to those that wait, they say.   
  
Well, I’ve been waiting for something or someone for weeks now—or is it months, I just don’t know anymore—and if that person or thing doesn’t come soon, I have every confidence that I will, in fact, never get out of here alive.   
  
I let out a heavy breath and feel the puff of cloying, moisture-laden air rebound back onto my face. The foulness of my own breath, as it returns to me, turns my stomach. The sack that is bound around my neck is filled with the cloying scent of my own sweat, blood and vomit. Not the most pleasant thing to wake up to each day, but then I don’t really have a lot of options open to me right now. My stomach cramps suddenly, painfully, growling loudly as it tries to gnaw at my spine. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything substantial. I can barely remember the taste of the foul, brackish water the bastard lets me drink each day; it seems so long between sips. He’s keeping me alive—just about—so that’s something, at least.    
  
I try to shift my weight but the ropes that wrap around my wrists, chest and legs, hold me securely. I’ve been bound and secured to this damned chair for a while now, but I have no idea how long. It’s dark in the hessian bag, darkness of night or magical darkness. Or am I just in a dark room? The muscles in my arms ache and sting, sweat trickling into the various welts and cuts that decorate the skin. The ropes are tight, pulling my arms behind my back, allowing no give and no possibility of wriggling free. Merlin knows I've tried.   
  
The terrible burn begins in my upper thigh; the right leg this time, for a change. The cramp is building fast, my legs secured at an angle just shy of comfortable. It usually means that my first sensation when I wake is pain. The muscles in my thigh spasm and clench and I grit my teeth, hard, feeling every muscle in my body lock tight in sympathy. I cannot shift enough to gain any measure of relief, and so I can only ride it out, as I have done many times before until the cramp fades and the agony subsides.   
  
Breathing heavily, like a woman in the throes of labour, I feel that blessed moment approach and the pain starts to ease, slowly.   
  
I gave up trying to scream for help a while ago now. It’s all so hazy now, and I don't know how long I've been here. I'm even more confused after he leaves me. Maybe he is Obliviating me because I certainly remember nothing about the day I was taken.

 

It could have been years for all I know at this point; I recall snatches of events during my captivity, but no solid timeline I can place them against. I remember six periods of sleep, at least, though it could be less. I can't even call it six days. ‘Sleep’ is defined by ‘unconsciousness’ and I have no idea how long my blackouts last.

 

My throat is ripped to shreds from the howling I was doing before I gave up. He still manages to make me scream though. Even though it hurts, even though it shreds just a little bit more flesh from my throat, he still makes me scream. It's not for help though, only mercy.   
  
I used to think that this place was silent; it’s not, not quite. With all my senses dulled or muted, or in the case of my sight, cut off altogether, there is only my hearing left to me. I’ve started to become more attuned to my surroundings, hearing things that I hadn’t noticed previously: the trickle of water nearby; the very faint sound of rain, pattering on the high roof; my fellow inmates, a family of rats—there’s at least three in here with me, though they spend a lot of time away—and the damned pigeon somewhere in the rafters, cooing and squawking away at all hours. If I get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do is kill the fucking flying rat!   
  
The sound of a key, scraping in the lock and so very loud in the near silence, sets my heart pounding and I feel the prickle of fresh sweat creep over the skin of my back. He’s here again and, as always, I don't know what he'll do! Sometimes he just feeds me, gives me water… other times he tortures me. He has a knife, which he's not shy about using. He's adept with the Cruciatus curse too…   
  
Oh, sweet Merlin, why can’t anyone find me? Why won’t someone save me?   
  
Please… someone…

 

~~~

 

I fondly remember a time when he didn't hurt me, back at the very beginning of my imprisonment. I was still bound, of course, but he wasn't torturing me. That came later. Days later, maybe even weeks. The longer I was here, the longer he had to keep me alive, the more violent he became. It was almost like was punishing me for something. For some reason this latest bout with the Cruciatus Curse has jarred my mind enough to allow me to recall this 'fact'.   
  
Lying on the floor, still twitching from the effects of the curse that wracked my body, I feel ropes being slipped around my wrists. I try to fight, pulling against the hands that grasp me. I am weak, every movement slow and awkward and I have no chance. In my weakened state, my captor is much stronger than I. My weak thrashing fails to produce any tangible effect and I am quickly trussed up, face down on the floor again, hands behind my back, ankles tied together.   
  
He is muttering something under his breath, but my blood is pounding, and I can hear nothing. I feel something appear under my nose, within the sack. It is what passes for food; this is how I get fed now, and like an animal I am forced to try and bite off chunks of whatever it is, pressing it against the floor with my face to hold it still. I can barely remember the last time I ate, and my stomach reminds me of this fact, a gurgling mountain stream trying to claw its way out of my skin. The food is old, stale, but it gives life, and although part of me wishes for death, a stronger part of me still wants to live. Tonight’s fare is bread that has turned and a chunk of what is probably old chicken. Enjoy your meal, sir!   
  
A thread of my old attitude, my fire and drive to survive wakes and a tendril of anger worms through me. Anger at being imprisoned, anger at being treated like a dog, at being beaten and abused. But I am tired and hurting, and can summon up little more than a petulant protest.   
  
“What, no mayo?” I whisper, but clearly too loudly—or he is closer than I expected—because he is kicking me again then, almost forcing me to throw up the tiny scraps I had just managed to choke down. I curl my knees up towards my chest, desperately trying to shield myself but I cannot see him, I am unable to see which direction the kicks are coming from, and I cannot defend myself.   
  
A sharp blow catches me against the temple and consciousness leaves me in a flash of sparkling light. In that light, I see snatches of my life, as if viewed from above, and I get the horrible sensation that I am finally being allowed to die. I see her face once more. Mina… my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend. The woman I love, who has kept me fighting this whole time when I would have curled up and died. I know that I don’t want to go.

 

~~~

 

**Day 128 (10th November)**

 

The electric light overhead buzzed and flickered briefly before steadying. It felt similar to Hermione's heartbeat; slightly irregular, flighty. She drew a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping into the horribly sterile environment again.

 

This was the second body she had been asked to identify, and she didn't know if she was mentally prepared for this. She wanted her parents with her. She wanted Ginny at her side. She looked at the man beside her, the person who had almost become a rock to her.

 

He had visited her as he had promised. They had sat and talked, and she found herself smiling for the first time in days; a genuine smile, not one tinged with sorrow. He was kind, and patient, made her feel something more than heartache. When her mood slipped, he changed the subject, kept her upbeat.

 

He had been reluctant to tell her about this new body, knowing that it could set her back, but she had been insistent.

 

Adrian returned the smile with an encouraging one of his own. “It'll be alright,” he said quietly.

 

She wasn't so sure. What Adrian had said about the body led her to believe that the moment she had dreaded since this nightmare had begun was finally here. Or maybe that it would be some kind of horrible relief.

 

The metal of the gurney was cold to the touch, her breathing heavy. Her heart rate picked up as she heard the wheels squeaking, bringing the body towards her. Without wanting to, she turned to face it, using the empty one beside her as support to prop up her rebellious knees.

 

“Miss Granger?” the nurse said, “if you're ready?”

 

Adrian's hand on her arm tightened slightly, and she placed her own over his, drawing strength from him. At her nod, the sheet was pulled back.

 

She choked back a sob of revulsion at the sight but waved Adrian back when he tried to pull her into his arms. “I'm okay, please… Just give me a moment.” She heard him mutter something disparaging about Draco, but was too busy trying to keep her stomach under control to question it.

 

Staring at the ceiling for a moment she steadied herself before stepping closer. The body was much worse than the first had been; flesh was missing where the fish had nibbled at it, stripping away some of the skin to expose bones in places. It was bloated and rotten. She leaned closer, breathing through her mouth, trying to look for anything that could be a distinguishing feature either for or against it being Theo.

 

“This level of decomposition would mean the body had been in the water for several weeks?”

 

The nurse looked surprised at this but nodded. “Yes, the body was recovered from a small pond in an isolated wood. Our initial assessment is that it had been there for at least a month, possibly as much as three. The full lab results will be back soon.”

 

“There must not have been many fish. There's a fair amount of evidence that they've been to work, but only small ones I'd guess…”

 

“Hermione, you don't need to…”

 

“I need to understand, Adrian!” She looked at the body, holding out her hand to the nurse.

 

The bemused man handed over a set of latex gloves, watching in amazement as the dishevelled woman pulled them on and began a closer examination. He looked at Adrian who simply shrugged.

 

“You seem to know a lot, Miss Granger…” the nurse said hesitantly.

 

“I read. A lot. Move that light a bit closer please?”

 

The nurse complied, lowering the overhead light. Hermione lifted the body's arm up, peering at the partially rotted flesh underneath.

 

“Please, Miss… you shouldn't be moving the body.”

 

“Can I see his back?” Her voice had changed abruptly, and Adrian seemed to sit up a little at this.

 

“What is it, love?”

 

“I need to see his back.”

 

“You think it's…”

 

“I don't know!” she snapped. Her eyes stabbed at the nurse. “His back, please.”

 

As the nurse looked over at Adrian, Hermione glared at the Auror until he nodded.

 

“One minute then, please?” The nurse stepped out to get help, returning after a moment with another nurse. Together they carefully rolled the body to one side, allowing Hermione to come around and see.

 

~~~

 

She swallowed the amber liquid, relishing the burn of it slipping down her throat.

 

“Are you okay?” Adrian sat down next to her on the narrow sofa in his office. He refilled her glass as she held it out to him, but refused her a third drink when that one disappeared as fast as the first.

 

“No, I'm not okay. I'm tired, and I'm hurting. It has been four months since Theo disappeared and there's no clue who did this, or why!”

 

Adrian placed the bottle on the table and put an arm around her shoulders. “The nurse said the coroner would have the results back soon. They’ll confirm whether the man the Muggles found fits Theo's description. You weren't sure just now…”

 

“But that mark on his back… it's so similar… What if it  _ is _ him, Adrian?” She wiped the tears from her cheeks, staring at the bottle, just longing to drink it all and embrace oblivion.

 

Adrian sighed. “If it is…? We'll deal with it, Hermione. You're a strong woman, and you know you have friends, family… And me.”

 

His hand found hers, and he squeezed it.

 

“I just feel so lost at the moment. I can't bear to talk to my friends, they all have babies...” She closed her eyes against those bitter tears. “I feel awful for not being a part of their lives, especially when they're all so young, and always changing, growing. I just can't face it...”

 

“I know, Hermione. I can't imagine what you're going through. What about your parents though?”

 

“They don't know what to say.” She gave a laugh. “Dad just tries to crack jokes to cheer me up, but almost everything he says reminds me of the way he bantered with Theo. Mum does her best, but she always acts like I'm going to break any minute, so she ends up tiptoeing around me. They're both on eggshells the whole time, and I can't stand it!”

 

“You know it's probably as hard for them too, right?”

 

“Well, of course, I know! They've lost a potential son-in-law and a grandchild in a short space of time… And me? I'm finding myself holding this tiny horrible hope in my mind that it  _ is _ Theo. That this fucking nightmare will be over at last!”

 

He pulled her into his arms as the tears snuck past her defences. She just hung onto him, allowing him this moment, allowing  _ herself _ this little bit of weakness. To feel comforted for the terrible thoughts reaching through her mind.

 

The door swung inwards, Draco already talking as he entered. “Pucey, we've got a businessman in the office asking about…”

 

Hermione heard his shoes scuff on the floorboards as he came to a halt, her heart sinking as she knew his thoughts.

 

“Oh, that's just beautiful! Fucking fantastic, Granger. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt and say the first time I caught you was a moment of weakness, but this is the second time now!”

 

“Malfoy!” Adrian snapped, standing as Hermione leant away from him rapidly. “There's nothing for you to be concerned about here! I'd appreciate it if you left as quickly as you barged in. Now!”

 

“I suppose Pucey was just trying to make you feel better, yeah?” Draco said, ignoring Adrian. “Oh, I'm sure he'll be happy to distract you from remembering the man you supposedly loved!”

 

Hermione wanted to hit him, but her legs were numb. She knew he was right in at least some small way and it made her feel worse than ever. The guilt was all consuming. Instead of responding she simply grabbed the bottle of whiskey while Adrian was distracted and walked towards the window, taking a long pull on the burning liquid.

 

“Malfoy, get out!” Adrian spat, giving him a shove.

 

“You're inviting trouble here, Granger!” Malfoy said, pushing Adrian's arm away. “Some people always manage to end up making stupid choices, even if they know they're in the wrong.” He sneered as she glanced at him, taking another, longer drink. “Pathetic. I guess the Prophet had you pegged right from the start. You need to work out what the right choice to make is.” He glanced between her and Adrian before turning on his heel and storming out. The door slammed behind him.

 

Hermione resisted as Adrian tried to take the bottle from her. Tears of guilt and anger blinded her sight, her mind swimming already from the drink. She managed one more swig before her feet drunkenly betrayed her and tumbled her to the floor.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 will post on Sunday 2nd September


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 6

**Day 129 (11th November)**

 

Hermione lay in bed, head pounding. She couldn't remember exactly how she had made it home last night. She didn't even want to think back on it. 

 

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Adrian. He had been a great comfort to her throughout this whole horrendous nightmare. He had been sympathetic and kind, had comforted her as she told him all she knew at the beginning. He hadn't minded her popping into the Auror offices repeatedly, just to hear no news--at least for the first week, and only asked her to stop for the investigation’s sake. Even then, every time he had had news he had been in contact with her almost straight away. 

 

Adrian Pucey was a good man, and she realised then that he had stayed with her until she had fallen asleep on her sofa last night. He must have put her to bed.

 

He was her lifeline at the moment. He was the one who could bring either good or bad news; he was like a drug. That logical part of her spoke up then, telling her his other qualities; he was handsome, strong, dependable… Everything she had loved about Theo, but here… tangible… Not the ghost of a memory...

 

She angrily pushed back the thoughts and the bedcovers, standing up and peeling off last night's outfit. She really must stop falling asleep in her clothes from the day before. She found some satin shorts and matching tank top to pull on and then grabbed her silk kimono dressing gown off the back of the door.

 

Suddenly there was a knock at that door, taking her by surprise.  _ Was Adrian still here? _   
  


She opened it and, sure enough, came face to face with the man she had been thinking about only moments before. She suddenly felt inappropriately dressed and tugged the dressing gown tighter about herself.

  
"Err, hi."   
  


“Good morning,” he said brightly, his brown coat draped over his arm, shirt looking creased and slept in. “Sorry for crashing here, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, didn’t wake up with any nightmares or anything from yesterday.”

 

She didn’t miss his eyes glance up and down her body taking in her clothing choices.

 

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that, I was okay.”

 

“Yes, you were, but you also had a fair amount to drink, and hey… better to be safe than sorry, yeah? You’ve been through enough lately. Plus I know your stubborn nature wouldn’t allow you to call your friends over.”

 

“Well, baby Luca is teething, they have enough on their plate without me adding to it.”

 

“You are so selfless, even at a time like this. I'm glad you're talking to them more often again.” 

 

“Well, life goes on, as you keep reminding me, Adrian.”

 

He smiled at her. “Yes, it does.” He moved into her room, Hermione automatically backing up to let him in. He looked about and pointed. “I like this picture.”

 

She followed him and looked at what he was pointing at. It was a photo of her stood by Ginny before the wedding ceremony; her dress complimented her tanned skin. It felt like a lifetime ago, the day she and Theo stopped messing around and started the best thing in her life. It made her heart ache that it had come to this.

 

“Ah, yes... Ginny and Blaise’s wedding day. It was a… good day.”

 

She turned away and felt rather than saw him come up behind her. He was so close she could feel his body heat radiating from him. If she turned, she could feel his arms around her again...

 

She spotted another photo of the wedding. She was stood by Draco in this one. She gave herself a shake and moved away from Adrian. "I forgot to ask you what you meant about Draco last night?” She watched him grimace, and he turned to look out of the window. “It was during the identification? Whatever it was he'd already upset you about something.”   
  
"Malfoy is not in my good books, again, thanks to his comments and behaviour. I hate the way he talks to you.”   
  
"You know as well as I do Adrian that he only says those things to get a reaction from me. Which he succeeds at regularly. Draco and I, well, what we’ve got…”

 

“Is failure to communicate?” Adrian said with a grin.

 

She laughed as he finished her sentence, but her smile faded after a moment. “You can't honestly suspect Draco of kidnapping his best friend, can you? He’s emotionally unstable about it, admittedly, but even I can’t see that he would do it. Nothing has pointed at Draco with what I’ve researched other than the one moment with the Auror button."   
  
"You don't have to remind me, Hermione. He's been a strong member of the team for years, and specifically  _ my _ team during this investigation… But lately, there's just something off with him. I appreciate the pressure of this case and how it could be affecting him, and if he hadn't put up quite so much of a fight, I probably wouldn't have allowed him on the team. Maybe I still shouldn't have, but it's the things he's been saying, and not just to you."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Yesterday, I asked him first to identify the body. I was trying to save you from that task, given recent events and circumstance." His voice softened at the last part.   
  
Hermione could feel herself tearing up at his words, and she steeled herself, still not believing Draco could be involved in this. "You know I wouldn't have believed it anyway. Not until I saw, one way or another."   
  
"I know, but I wanted to do the decent thing by you. Anyway... he refused. Flat out told me it wouldn't be Theo and that I was just wasting everyone's time. Now compare that to your reaction, Hermione! I know you didn't want to believe even the possibility that it could be Theo, but you would never be sure until you had seen it yourself like you just said."   
  
Hermione wasn't sure what to say. What was Draco up to? She looked out the window again, the light of morning beginning to take over the sky. She didn't much like Draco Malfoy, but she had seen enough of him now to struggle to see him as the bad guy here, despite how he acted towards her. She was beginning to develop her own theory about that. If given the opportunity she'd speak to him about it. Maybe she'd send Quincy with another note, asking him to contact her about her research...   
  
She felt a hand brush against hers, and she turned to look at Adrian.   
  
"Come here. I need to tell you something." He pulled her back towards the bed, and they both sat on the edge. His touch had sent shivers down her spine, and as she looked at his kind face, into his green eyes--darker than Theo's-- she couldn't ignore the frisson of attraction she felt for this man.

 

He had become a stability in her life, but he was like a drug. You know you shouldn't, but you crave the high it gives you. In this case, she craved the kindness he gave to her. Her emotions were shot. She shouldn't be having these feelings; they felt like a betrayal. She sighed.   
  
"Hey, come here." He spoke softly, and she let him envelop her in his arms, putting aside her doubts, simply craving his touch. 

 

"You know you're not alone, right? I'm here for you, especially if...." He let his words tail off as she tensed at his insinuation. He pulled away and allowed his hands to trail up her body, brushing past her breasts.

 

She watched his eyes move up to meet hers, gauging her reaction. She remained still, not wanting to give anything away, fighting with herself. When his hands cupped her face, she closed her eyes, trying to stop what she knew was going to happen, what she  _ wanted _ to happen.

 

Then his lips were on hers, soft at first, allowing her the chance to respond. She didn't, not straight away, but his kisses began to become more demanding and then she was lost. Suddenly it wasn't Adrian she was kissing; it was Theo.

 

She felt his hands trail back down, once more brushing past her breasts, stopping and resting just above her hips. She drank him in, surrendering to the moment. Pulling him towards her, she let his body cover hers, arms around his neck, holding him close. Her heart ached with pain, with an intense joy that he was back. They broke apart for a moment, gasping for air.   
  
"Mina!" he breathed, before moving back in to attack her lips again.   
  
That was all it took. One word and the realisation of what was happening-- _ it’s not Theo _ \--came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks.

 

She pushed at him and pulled away from his grasp so quickly she nearly lost her balance, staggering across the room. She stood as far away from him as possible, her breathing still ragged from their kisses. "I'm sorry, Adrian, that shouldn't have happened! I can't do that."   
  
From the corner of her eyes, she couldn't quite read the look that fleetingly crossed his face. It was gone so quickly that when she looked at him more fully, she almost thought she had imagined it, so neutral was his visage.   
  
"It's okay,” he said quietly, “I'm sorry too, Hermione. That… that was unprofessional of me. I just feel more for you than just someone I'm working with on a case. I like you, Hermione. You must know that?"   
  
"I do… and I’m so confused by my own feelings… Theo is still out there, Adrian; despite everything, I’m still clinging to that thought! I have just betrayed him by kissing you.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I'm sorry, I'm all over the place. This isn’t right. I’m a complete mess... everything is just awful... You are lovely, and you've been here for me when I've been determined to make myself feel so lonely. But that's no excuse." Tears stung her eyes, and she couldn’t stop them falling even if she had wanted to.   
  
“Look, Hermione, I get what you’re saying, and I understand it. Maybe after more time has passed…” He broke off as she shook her head, his lips thinning. “I have to tell you this, but just remember you're not alone. I'm sorry for overstepping the mark, but maybe you'll understand why I did that in a moment."   
  
"What's happened?" Hermione could sense the edge in his voice. She wasn’t sure if it was the news he had to deliver or annoyance at being thwarted in his advances again.   
  
"I'm being pressured to change the status of this investigation. With yesterday’s visit to the morgue, if the results come back inconclusive... There are no more leads or any clues to Theo’s disappearance... It is deemed that, for the amount of time Theo has been missing, the probability of him being found alive is minimal. The Minister has ordered Harry to downgrade the priority of the case again, and we’re being sent to work on other cases. Theo’s now a cold case.”

 

Hermione’s tears ceased, a cold feeling spreading through her stomach, even as she saw red. "I need you to leave.” Her fingers clutched at her arms as she hugged herself, knuckles white. “Now!" she yelled.   
  


“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered, moving towards her with her arms open comfortingly.

  
"Don't touch me!” she screamed. “Get out!”   
  
Adrian, to his credit, did as she asked. He held up his hands in apology and backed out of the room. “Hermione, you need to be realistic. As much as you don’t want to hear it, you need to try and move on.”

 

She ignored him; the strength it took not to shout back at him was immense.   
  
He opened the front door and stepped out of the flat. She was about to shut it in his face, when without warning he enveloped her in his arms, pulling her just over the threshold and into the corridor outside.   
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione. Truly I am."   
  
"And you thought kissing me would mute the blow, Adrian?" She angrily muttered into his chest, pushing against him so he would release her.

 

“I meant what I said, Hermione. Despite the circumstances, the horrendous timing and inappropriate mess I just made of it... I like you. I want to look after you… maybe one day to love you.”

 

She looked at him, her emotions roiling within her. Stepping back inside her flat, she grabbed the edge of the door. “He’s alive, Adrian. Those results will come back negative, prove he is still out there! I will spend the rest of my life looking for him if I have to!”

 

She slammed the door in his crestfallen face.

 

~~~

 

**???**

  
The chill splash of freezing water nearly stops my heart and shocks me awake.

 

I had been dreaming, blissful and sweet dreams of my last night with her. The memory has fought its way through the fog that has swamped my mind this whole time. Her last words to me as we slipped into sleep that night.

 

She was pregnant! Oh, how I wish I had awakened first the next morning! The sweetness of the dreams I had had at those words. A son or daughter of my own, with her.

 

My lungs are burning, and I realise that I can't breathe! The water, constantly flowing, is plastering the sack to my face, pouring through it and blocking my airways. My head is not fixed in place though, and I fling it to the side, the soaked hessian lifting from my mouth and letting me draw in a desperate lungful of air.   
  
I am on my back, my body bound with my arms out to the side with ropes at my wrists, legs secured at the knees and ankles. I am pinned and unable to escape but, blessedly, not dead. Just those moments of seeing Hermione in my mind again, holding our child… it has given me the strength to keep fighting, to continue resisting, and the determination, more than ever to escape from this hell.   
  
The pressure on my chest lifts as I manage to take another breath, pushing the rough material further off my face with my tongue. And then the thirst clamps its chill hands upon me, and I begin to suck water through the sack, swallowing it down, desperate to relieve the terrible thirst that has been plaguing me. Over the sound of water and the droplets filling my ears, there is very little audible to me. The world has taken on a muffled quality, and my focus has shifted entirely towards drinking and breathing. There is nothing else in the world right now, just those two things.   
  
And then there is pain. A white-hot line burns its way across my stomach, another flow of warmth spills across my belly. Oh, sweet Merlin! The crazy bastard has just cut me open, and I’m going to die here, ripped open and bleeding! I start to choke on the water again, as my attention is pulled away and I thrash as much as I can, desperate to get free.   
  
Another burning line walks its way over my chest, and I shake my head violently, unable to speak, barely able to breathe, begging for him to stop. I’m blind and bound, at this maniac’s mercy.   
  
I feel a sudden flash of clarity and understanding of what Hermione had gone through all those years ago at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had told me the story of her torture. How the mad witch had cut her and tortured her with the Cruciatus Curse. I had held her as she had wept at the memories, not really comprehending what she had been through, just giving her what I could.   
  
Now though... now I truly understood the helplessness and the pain she had suffered. I understand what this is about now. This is my punishment… punishment for what I did during the war, it must be.   
  
“Please,” I manage to choke out, coughing a little on water as I do so. “Please stop!”   
  
“Stop talking!” His voice is loud, harsh in the sudden silence, as the water stops flowing. It’s a horrible voice like it’s not a human voice at all or he’s talking through something. Just once I wish he’d forget to disguise his voice! “Just shut up!”   
  
His accursed knife slices through the bag on my head, tears through my skin, laying open my flesh from just under my left ear, all the way down my jaw. Light suddenly floods the bag and my eyes instinctively close, despite my desperate need to see, to know that I am not blind!   
  
I feel the terrible pain light up every nerve in my cheek, and I cannot hold back the cry of pain that crawls out of me. Part of me catalogues the wound, wondering just how close that came to slicing through the fat, pulsing artery in my neck and sending me to my death.   
  
“Shut up! Fuck! This is  _ your _ damn fault!”   
  
His breathing is rapid, and I can hear him moving around me, walking till he’s standing at my head. The sensation of him leaning over me stills my heart. It is nothing compared to the fear that creeps over me as he speaks again, his voice suddenly deathly calm and measured.   
  
“If people did what they were supposed to… do what is reasonable, given the circumstances, this wouldn’t be necessary.”   
  
The blade of the knife is laid against my throat. I can feel the chill metal and imagine that I can also feel the heat of my own blood, decorating the blade. I feel certain in this moment that it is over, that my throat is going to be cut open next.   
  
Then the blade lifts and I remember to breathe again.   
  
“But we are where we are because of her choices, you and I both, my friend. Hopefully, she’ll make the right decision soon.”   
  
I start to speak, drawing in breath and feeling the left side of my face burn as the wound twists. I swallow my words, the pain too much and the image of splitting my face in two too vivid for me to risk it becoming a reality.

 

His words make me doubt my earlier belief. This  _ wasn't _ to do with my father, clearly!

 

My eyes have started to adjust to the glaring light, visible through the slit in the bag and I see him, just as he walks past me.   
  
The view is too narrow to make out much more than his coat: long, black, plain. No detail on it, nothing that can help me at all. He is gone before I can refocus and I try to make out some of the room beyond. At that moment the blackness descends again at a word from my captor, and I cannot help but cry out in frustration.   
  
“Trying to see, are we?” he hisses, and I feel myself pulled upwards, lifted from the table and stood upright once more suspended by my arms, which were pulled up and outwards. I feel the floor beneath me, but I can only just reach it on my tiptoes. I desperately fight to lift myself higher and take the pressure off of my shoulders. The cuts on my stomach pull and the blood trickles down my body. It’s been only a few seconds, but I can already feel my toes starting to ache in anticipation. If this is how he plans on leaving me, then I will have to alternate between balancing on my toes and hanging by my arms. It is not going to be pleasant, either way!   
  
Through my pain and the blood pounding in my ears, I can hear him muttering from somewhere to my right, snippets of a conversation he is having with himself. I can feel the ropes thrumming and vibrating as he secures me in my new position.   
  
“… stroke of luck, but it won’t last long… nosey bastard was starting to get too close… at least that gives me space again…”   
  
“Please,” I whisper, unable to stay silent any longer. “Please just let me go. I haven’t seen your face. I’m not going to be able to tell anyone anything about you.”   
  
“And I told you,” he whispers from right in front of me, his unexpected closeness startling me, “to shut, the fuck, up.”   
  
I can imagine his eyes, filled with anger or the light of insanity. His next words, spoken in a faux American accent, make all my fears up to this point seem paltry in comparison.   
  
“What we’ve got here is failure to communicate!” He dropped the accent, but I can barely focus on his words. “I said, ‘shut up’. Now, shut up.”   
  
As I just concentrate on breathing, I hear him walking away. I know he is leaving me in this darkness, in this position, but I cannot do anything but continue to agonise over those words. My throat closes up, and I feel my heart stuttering. I recognise the words he speaks, even as I wish they were different. The meaning in them, the implications…  My stomach churns in anguish. and a wave of nausea sweeps over me.   
  
_ What we’ve got here is failure to communicate. _   
  
I remember those words…  _ She _ says those words, my sweet, beautiful Mina. It’s from one of her favourite songs. The door slams, away to my right.   
  
_ What we’ve got here… _   
  
Has _ she  _ done this? Is she involved somehow?   
  
_ …is failure to communicate. _   
  
_ Why? _ I ask the silent and empty room.  _ Why would she be involved in my captivity? _ I can feel the beginnings of a panic attack sweeping over me, my heart pounding out of my chest. She’s the person I thought I could trust, above any other…

 

_ Every time I let my guard down... _   
  


~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 will be posted on Wednesday 5th September


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 7

I can’t keep the terrible thought— _ what we’ve got here is failure to communicate _ —and the implications of my captor saying it. It’s got to be a coincidence. There must be other magical folk that have heard that song, not just Muggles. Other muggle-borns, half-bloods...  _ I’ve _ heard it!   
  
_ Only because she made you _ , part of me whispers,  _ it’s not like you enjoyed it. _

 

It’s true but irrelevant. Whether I enjoyed the music or not makes no difference. The fact is this person has either heard the song or seen the movie that phrase comes from or has spent enough time with Hermione to have heard her say it. He is clearly a wizard, and so the balance of logic falls in favour of the latter.   
  
Am I being paranoid? Can the woman I love really be doing this? And to what end? If this was related to my family, why would Hermione be involved; she knew nothing about what happened. Unless Blaise had said something to her… But, no. He's gone years without mentioning it; he wouldn't say anything now, would he?   
  
I can’t help but flinch as sweat from my forehead trickles down to the cut on my cheek, the sting of it prickling across my skin. My body aches in so many places now, and this new position I find myself in will have an interesting effect on my body. I wonder whether it will be my arms or feet that will give out first. I shudder to think of the long-term damage that is being done. I feel a laugh trying to escape on the heels of that thought.   
  
“‘Long-term damage,’” I mutter under my breath, trying to stop the laughter that is threatening to spill out of me. “What makes you think you’re getting out of this in one piece?”   
  
The urge to laugh is suddenly unbearable, and I choke out a rasping sound that almost passes for amusement. It sounds more like a rock laughing than myself, and even though it hurts like hell, that thought makes me laugh harder. My hands are wrapped around the ropes that secure my wrists, and I am trying to balance on my tiptoes; my muscles are aching, and my wounds are splitting open again from the position and the pressure it is putting the barely healed cuts under; the fresh wounds on my stomach are burning, and I can feel the skin tearing a little at the edges, the fresh blood trickling, or maybe even flowing, down my body.   
  
Still, I laugh. I must be a terrible sight, dirty, dishevelled and bloody, stinking and covered in my own bodily waste. But still I laugh, and I begin to worry that maybe I have stepped off the edge of sanity entirely and am now tumbling down the slope into madness.   
  
There is a sudden crash, further away from me and my laughter turns to a cry of fear. Every hair on my body raises and my heart thuds painfully in my chest. I have sudden visions that my captor never left that he hid and was waiting for me to relax, so that he can increase my torment just that little bit more. Before I know it I am begging for him to leave me be, to let me live, to let me die, anything, just to stop tormenting me.   
  
I pull myself together gradually, realising that there have been no further noises, other than my own. It is just something, deeper in the place I am held that has fallen over. Even as my head tells me this, I cannot stop my soul from sobbing in terror at the monsters it can feel, creeping closer, slithering about in the shadows, hungering for my pain.   
  
I do not know when I begin to cry, but I know it continues until I pass out. Blessedly silent relief from the pain in my body and soul.   
  
I don’t want to confront the possibility that the woman who loves me had a hand in this living hell anymore. I know I have to think it through properly, but maybe not… Maybe if I pray hard enough some kind being will hear me and just let me die.

 

~~~

 

**Day 139 (21st November)**

 

Draco looked across his desk at her, that infuriating, insufferable sneer on his lips. Even after all this time he still couldn't look at her without that expression.

 

“Why would you come to me, Granger? Seems pretty clear you made your choice already.”

 

“Get your head out of your arse, Malfoy. I've been trying to talk to you properly for weeks! And there is nothing going on between Adrian and me.”

 

“Not according to the papers. Not according to what I've seen with my own eyes.”

 

“He's been nothing but supportive to me throughout this whole ordeal, which is more than I can say for you.”

 

He scoffed. “Sure, ‘supportive’. Just admit it, Granger. To yourself if no one else. The little hugs, the kisses… Have you fucked him yet?”

 

Hermione gasped. If Malfoy had reached over and slapped her, she wouldn't have felt more shocked. “What is wrong with you? My boyfriend is missing, your best friend, and instead of helping me you've done nothing but fight me! You've belittled me, scorned me…”

 

“I have been out there, searching for him, every single day! I don't have time to hold your hand and make soothing noises to make you feel better! Theo's away from you, which is the only good thing to come out of this mess,” Draco hissed, standing and turning away from her.

 

“You never felt I was good enough for him, did you,” she said quietly, “always waiting for him to realise it for himself and drop me.”

 

“Stupid, stubborn man. You'd probably say we have failure to communicate.” He rolled his eyes. “He never saw it the way I did.”

 

“Because he loves me!”

 

“Go cry on Pucey's shoulder again, Granger. I don't give a damn what you think you've found in your research. I have somewhere important to be.”

 

“You're not going anywhere just yet, Malfoy.”

 

Adrian stepped into the room, surprising both Draco and Hermione.

 

“Thought you were off doing something important yourself, Adrian,” Draco snarled, mostly managing to cover his surprise with anger.

 

“What's going on, Adrian?” Hermione asked.

 

“New information. Interesting information. Malfoy here is going to come with me and answer some questions. Roberts, escort Hermione home please.”

 

“Not until you tell me what's going on!”

 

Roberts stepped into the room too, his dark eyes fixed on Draco and a strange, almost hurt expression on his face. “Miss Granger, if you would follow me, please?”

 

“No!” She snatched her hand away from his. “Have you found him?”

 

Adrian cast a quick glance her way. “No, Hermione, but new information has come to light that I need to speak to Malfoy about. Go home. I will tell you all about it as soon as we're done here.”

 

~~~

 

**???**

 

I am dying.   
  
I’m almost certain of this now, and I have had a long time to think about it. I am definitely dying now.   
  
It has been, by my admittedly uncertain count, ten days since my captor last visited me. I am starving, dehydrated, delirious… tired of fighting. Each of my waking moments are punctuated by the steady drip that falls from the ceiling and taps me gently on the shoulder. It is raining again. I guess it has been raining for days, although I can’t hear it falling, just the drip that comes from the ceiling, high above me.   
  
That tiny little drip, life-giving water that falls through a gap and trickles, slowly but steadily, towards the crack in the ceiling above me. There it gathers its friends and falls all the way down to me, landing lightly on my shoulder, or collar, maybe soaking into the hessian bag that covers my head.   
  
It took a day—or what I deemed to be a day—before I started deliberately getting the bag wet, letting the water soak through to my desperate tongue beneath. So I have sat here, slowly starving to death, sucking small amounts of water through the stinking, filthy bag that covers my head. At least he eventually put me back in the chair, muttering almost inaudibly under his breath the whole time. I was so delirious I was sure I was hallucinating; I’d heard that solitary confinement can do that after a while. How long have I been alone here with nothing but my thoughts? The Healers would have a field day with what’s wrong with me at the moment!   
  
Living the high life, my friends. Living the dream…   
  
But I am, at least, living.   
  
It can’t be denied that I am also, contrary to my last thought, dying. I haven’t eaten in an age. How long can a man live on rainwater alone? How long before his body starts to eat itself, in order to survive? How long do I have left before I start to feel that? Or has it started already?   
  
My throat is so painful, and it’s all I can do to force my jaw to work, to suck the water out. Something in me is still refusing to quit, refusing to just surrender to the inevitable. I lost the feeling in my legs some time ago, and I can barely feel my arms anymore. I dread to think what they look like, bound with tight ropes, still and immovable. I think my body has given up on giving me warnings. Now I’m just numb all over.   
  
Blindly I stare at the ceiling—I think my eyes are open anyway—and consider Hermione, my beautiful Mina. Until recently I thought she was involved in this, that she was somehow trying to get her hands on my money, my fame; that she was some kind of Black Widow type, seducing and then disposing of her husband when she had everything she wanted from them.   
  
It took a long time, but I think I’ve got over that bit of paranoia now because paranoia it is. It makes no sense, for a start. She has enough fame of her own; Heroine of the War, Destroyer of Horcruxes. She’s fed up with fame too: she is the one who taught me to handle the press. Money? The Order of Merlin she received all those years ago, after the war, has more than amply expanded her coffers and she is canny and careful, investing her Galleons wisely. Besides that we’re not married, we’re technically not living together, and I haven’t changed my will to include her yet!   
  
She would gain nothing from this!   
  
That thin tendril of doubt and paranoia always circles my brain, but for the most part, I can keep it under control.   
  
I feel tired again, and a flutter of fear stirs my heart—or maybe the threat of a heart attack—as I realise these moments of unconsciousness are coming closer and closer together now. I think the lack of fresh air is having a serious effect on my mind. I’ve just realised that the drip of water has been patting me on the head for some time, each little drop like a pellet against the sack, damping my temple. Pat-pat-pat-pat… on and on, like some medieval torture method. I have to lift my head but find my neck muscles unwilling to cooperate. I’m just so tired.   
  
I think I must have blacked out for a spell because I suddenly realise that I am not alone! There is someone else in the room with me! I can hear them moving around, muttering to themselves and my weary heart tries to explode with fear. I know the pain is coming next and I start to cry out against it, my voice little more than dust stirring in a dry river bed.   
  
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he mutters, a short distance away from me. He sounds agitated, afraid. He sounds… normal. He has forgotten to disguise his voice! It is gravelly like he has been smoking a pipe for years, the sound of a man with years of tar in his lungs. It is thin and reedy, an older man’s voice; it reminds me of my grandfather, on my father’s side—an old tyrant of a man, dead a long time now—whose voice was both terrifying in its anger and petulant in its timbre. This is my kidnapper’s natural voice that I am hearing, finally!   
  
Just as that thought comes, along with a boost of energy, I realise that it is of little use to me now. I don’t recognise his voice. It’s not someone I know, so the knowledge of how he sounds means nothing. Perhaps the fact of the matter is that he has stopped disguising his voice because he intends to kill me now. Certainly, his ramblings are getting more agitated, and I struggle to clear my head, desperate to hear his voice, to understand, to try and prepare myself to fight if I can.   
  
“… fucker… the lying, sneaking fucker! … Who’s out there!? …it’s not my fault… no need… WHY!? Why is this fucking happening, you fucking shits? I’ll kill every last one of you!”   
  
He’s truly and terribly insane, I realise. His voice is on the edge of madness, a frantic and desperate individual and adrenaline surges through me as I hear him stumbling closer, crashing into things as he comes, heedless of the noise, ranting under his breath. I imagine I can hear the sound of the air being sliced by his knife as he advances.   
  
The rush of fear makes my head swim, and I feel unconsciousness beckoning once more. Desperately I try to fight it off, growling under my breath as I urge my dying body to fight.   
  
The taste of copper fills my mouth suddenly. My ears are throbbing, ringing with the echo of something deafening. Everything feels strange, and my right arm feels crushed, pinned and forced against a hard surface. The side of my head is filled with a sharp stabbing pain and liquid trickles across my forehead and over my face. The liquid tastes like blood and I begin to realise that I am lying on the floor. The chair is gone, shattered into kindling, though I still have fragments of it bound to me. My arm is underneath me, shoulder painful from a heavy impact. Something has cut the other side of my face. My mind is struggling to work out what happened!   
  
The room feels full suddenly, several different people yelling, the sounds of spells and jinxes, curses—both magical and verbal—fill the air around me.   
  
Have I been found at last? Is that what this is? Some kind of rescue attempt? Oh Merlin, please let it be so!   
  
With the throbbing in my head, I cannot make out the spells or individual voices. My arms won't move. I can only huddle myself into a smaller ball and hope that I’m not killed in the crossfire!   
  
I feel myself grabbed, rolled over, covered by a heavy weight and then a bright light fills my vision. The sensation of the bag being ripped off of my head, the flood of stimulus, jars my consciousness.

 

I soar. Flying away from here, leaving it all behind.

 

Free at last.   
  


~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 will post on Saturday 8th September


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a diddy one to close out this Part... sorry!

**Day 140 (22nd November)**

  
The first thing Theo saw, when he opened his eyes, was the head of a giant, sparkling silver, demonic bird, the size of an eagle. The pale, feathered head glared down at him; it's vicious beak snapping and its burning eyes boring into his soul. He struggled to get away, trying to avoid the razor-sharp point that threatened to pluck his eyes from his head, but his limbs refused to cooperate. His hearing was fuzzy, but there was shouting, close by, muffled as though by water, but audible still.   
  
“…can’t believe you’re still alive! I need a medi-team here, now!” At these last words, the terrible bird cocked its head to the side and gave a flap of its wings, bursting apart in a cloud of sparks that swirled and soared away.   
  
Theo stared around in confusion, his eyes slowly focusing on the figure knelt next to him, his brown trench coat marking him as an Auror. The man’s face slowly swam into focus, sharp pinpricks stabbing the back of Theo’s eyes. The Auror’s own eyes, sunken and shadowed, stared down, a hand thrust out to keep him down.   
  
“Stay down, Nott! We don’t know how badly you’re hurt. Just wait till the Mungo’s boys get here.”   
  
“Pucey?” Theo muttered, his voice thick and slurred, his tongue too big for his mouth. His vision had focused enough for him to recognise the man but his head still swam, and he felt sick. “What is…? Where? Whu...?”   
  


Adrian smiled tightly, glancing around him to where the rest of his squad was fanning out, checking the building for danger. “The answer to your question fragments is: safe! You’re an extremely lucky man, Theo.” He tilted his head to one side, looking down at the ragged and dishevelled figure lying on the floor before him. “Though I won’t lie; you look like shit.”   
  
Theo blinked, and as he opened his eyes again—fighting against the blood that gummed the lids together—he felt himself being lifted by the small group of people around him. The room seemed suddenly calmer, with less rushing and shouting. He was acutely aware of a sharp pain in his side; one that seemed to intensify with each breath. Pucey was stood nearby, berating a man with a long beard for taking so long to arrive. Theo didn’t understand that. Adrian had only sent his Patronus off a few seconds ago...   
  
There was a slight lurch as he was lowered onto the stretcher and Theo’s stomach swirled alarmingly. He closed his eyes against the nausea that swept over him, his mouth watering.

 

He turned his head to the side and spat on the floor of the St Mungo’s car, then blinked in confusion as he took in the sudden change in his surroundings. A kindly faced medi-wizard, his long beard neatly trimmed, leaving his cheeks bare, sat at his side, wand glowing as it passed over Theo’s chest. “It’s okay, son. We’re on our way to St Mungo’s now; we’ll be there soon.”   
  
“How… how did I get…?” Theo struggled to speak, his throat full of broken glass.   
  
“You keep drifting in and out of consciousness, Mister Nott. I'm trying to keep you awake,” the wizard said with a smile, patting the younger man on the arm. “You’ve been starved, and deprived of your basic needs for quite some time. You’ve lost blood, and quite a few of those wounds look infected. Your body wants to sleep, but please try to fight it, just until we reach the hospital.”   
  
Theo heard the man’s voice as if he was sat at the end of a long tunnel. It echoed inside his mind, and he struggled to hear him properly. “I want… I need… see… Hermione…”   
  
“… keep it moving people, coming through!” yelled a witch, startling Theo and setting off muscle spasms in his arms and legs. He moaned in pain again. The ceiling and walls were rushing past him, blearily seen over the shoulder of the witch that was straddling him, her wand brightly lit. Over the sound of his erratic heartbeat, pounding in his ears, there was the sound of lots of people chatting. To one side Theo recognised the life-sized painting of Mungo Bonham, hanging on the wall and realised where he was. His eyes rolled upwards again.   
  
“He’s crashing! Let’s get there quickly, people!”   
  
“’miney…” Theo’s voice failed him as he tried to look around, unable to move. His body was trying to send him under once more, and he fought it, fought it with everything he had left. “H’my’ne!” he coughed out.   
  
His vision was filled with the face of an angel, shouldering through the crowd around him. A vision that demolished his sense of pain and set his heart racing with joy and light once more. Her wild hair sprang out from her head in all directions, and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Her sweet voice followed him down into the darkness.   
  
“Theo! I’m here; it’s Hermione…”

 

**End of Part 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... he's alive! Now, the questions have to be asked: Will he recover from his ordeal or will he suffer ill effects from his time in captivity? Will Hermione be able to cope with the new and different stresses that are to come, and what about her feelings for Adrian? Can they just go away now that Theo has been rescued? And how about Adrian's feelings for her? And what *is* the writers' obsession with pigeons!?
> 
> All these questions, and more, will be asked and answered in Part 3... except probably the pigeon one... we're as confused as you are! To be fair, the pigeon thing is mostly Nathaniel's fault ;)
> 
> We hope you're still enjoying the story and we'll see you on Tuesday 11th September for Part 3!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Part 3, we hope you enjoy this little snippet!

_The sun was setting on another day, cold and rainy again. It was always miserable weather around this time, but this had been one of the worst in recent memory. The pigeon, puffed up to try and retain some warmth against the chill wind, huddled close to the dirty, broken window._

 

_There was a large gap in the glass and the quiet dark beyond was inviting. The pigeon’s head cocked to one side as she considered her options._

 

_She had once lived in the vast human city nearby, but lack of food had sent her outwards in an effort to find a more hospitable home. It had been many days, huddling for warmth and shelter, watching out for the red dogs that hunted, and for the raptors that scoured the sky._

 

_She was starting to think that the city had been safer. One thing that she had always known though was that human homes were not safe for animals! Especially not her kind. Humans did not like having a bird in their house, and it had only taken one close call for her to realise that._

 

_She looked at the broken window again. The lack of wind and rain within quickly made her mind up for her._

 

_Inside the ceiling was lined with rafters and she fluttered up to roost on one, still cautious. She looked around curiously, studying the layout. The room was deeper than the window, sunken into the ground and lined with old, cracked stone. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and stone pillars supported the ceiling. There were old boxes, dusty sheets, and tables covered in junk pushed to one side._

 

_In an open space in the centre of the room was a chair, a human was tied to it. Their head was uncovered, hair wild and untamed, bushing out in all directions. They were slumped forward as if sleeping.  It was a horribly familiar scene. _

 

_As the pigeon watched, three other humans entered the room, flicking balls of light up to the ceiling, illuminating the area. The humans were male; one with brown hair, another with hair so pale it was almost white, and a dark-skinned man in a long brown coat following the pair closely._

 

_Together they advanced on the woman, and the pigeon was filled with a sense of approaching danger._

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 will post on Friday 14th September.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we delve into another episode of angst, heartache, traumatic events, healing, and maybe some happiness, we just wanted to say this:
> 
> We know we haven't replied to any of your comments so far, but please know that we appreciate them all, and we squee and giggle over them in private like excited school children. Everyone who has subbed, bookmarked, commented, left kudos, or simply just read it. Thank you <3

Hermione could only stare at Harry for a full minute; she couldn't believe the news he was bringing her, or that once again her best friend was back. 

 

“He's alive? Are you serious, Harry? You're not some sort of sick trick? You're really here aren't you?” 

 

She ran across Theo's living room, and he enveloped her in his arms. He was still coated with a thin layer of debris from his Portkey journey and Floo powder from his trip from the office. He looked exhausted, but he managed a smile for her.

 

“He's alive, Hermione. I don't know in what state but when I heard it I had to come and give you the news. I only got back from America an hour ago!” 

 

“What about Adrian?” 

 

“He's gone straight to the site where their information pointed and owled it in. He had asked that we wait a while before you were told, but I overruled that… Perks of being the head of the department and all that.”

 

“Well, why should I wait?” Hermione huffed already grabbing her bag and coat off of the sofa where she had ditched them the night before. 

 

“I think he wanted to tell you himself. Call it Auror pride.”

 

“We need to go now, Harry. Where is he? Is he okay? You were hesitant to say more...” She was back at his side. Impatient. 

 

Harry couldn’t help but smile; his best friend missed nothing. “He's alive, Hermione, but he has been seriously hurt. Whoever had him has been tormenting him. I've only had the briefest of updates, but he's in need of Mungo's treatment and wasn't in the best of states. He was talking though.” 

 

Hermione held her tears in. She had cried enough throughout this process. He was alive! That was all that mattered. Time to be strong again, strong for Theo. 

 

“Take me to him, Harry. I need to see him for myself.”

 

~~~

 

They Apparated straight to St Mungo's, and Hermione hurried away, leaving Harry trailing behind her. It was busy, and she pushed her way through the hustle and bustle of general hospital life until she saw a mediwitch.

 

“Excuse me, Theodore Nott, has he arrived yet? He'd have had an Auror escort. Please, I need to see him.”

 

The witch was surprised but pointed down the corridor. “Someone was just brought in by the Aurors. They're heading towards the emergency rooms.” 

 

Harry had just caught up when Hermione ran off again. The mediwitch shouted after her, calling for her to stop, but Hermione ignored her.

 

She spotted the recognisable brown coats down the corridor and hurried after them. There was a man on a stretcher, a Healer perched atop him, her wand blazing with light. Through the gaps between his escort she could just make out some features though he was almost unrecognisable; his face was covered in bruises and dried blood, a nasty wound could be seen weeping and was most definitely infected.

 

“He's crashing!” the Healer shouted suddenly. “Let's get there quickly, people!”

 

She heard Theo's voice trying to call out through the noise. As quiet and as hoarse as it was, she heard her name. 

 

“H’my’ne!” 

 

She pushed past the Aurors and Healers who were now running with him and grabbed his grubby hand. 

 

“Theo! I’m here, it’s Hermione…”

 

The smallest of smiles crossed his face before he slipped into unconsciousness. 

 

In the seconds she had, before she was pulled away, she noted just what a state he was in. His left arm was sitting at a funny angle, at least two deep cuts crossed his torso, a deep one on his face. There were multiple wounds around his wrist and ankles where ropes had obviously sat tightly. The clothes he was wearing were torn in places they shouldn't be; clean tears, tears only a knife could make. She could see dried blood caking the edges of these rips. 

 

Realisation of the state Theo was now in took hold of Hermione, her legs suddenly feeling weak and shaky.

 

“Hermione?! What are you doing here?” The familiar voice of Adrian's cut through the noise as his strong hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her away. 

 

Her hand slipped out of Theo's, and he was rolled into another room. The door shut behind him. 

 

“He's alive!” She turned round to face Adrian, both angry and elated.

 

“Yes, yes he is! But barely, a few more days and I think we would have been too late. But what are you doing here? I specifically told the team no one was to contact you until I knew more and could tell you myself. Someone's head is going to roll for this!” he growled. 

 

“Going to fire your boss are you?” Harry stood behind Adrian, looking slightly puffed. “Never knew you could run that fast, Hermione… I'm out of shape.”

 

Adrian spun round. “Oh, Potter. I didn't realise you were back.” 

 

“Obviously, Pucey. I thought Hermione had waited long enough for news on Theo and since I was back, I would go and share said news.” 

 

“Who was it, Adrian?” Hermione said insistently. “Who had him? Who's done this to him? How did you find him?” She didn't care that she was throwing a multitude or questions at him; she needed answers. 

 

“I don't have all the answers yet, Hermione. I need to get back to the site and investigate. I just wanted to make sure he made it here safely. I'm sure Potter will wait with you?” It was a rhetorical question as Adrian was already on the move. “I have to get back to the team and see where we are with answers. The golden hour is almost up.” 

 

“Keep me posted, Pucey? I want a full debrief tonight at seven pm, okay? And here, I heard you put Malfoy under arrest? “

 

“Seven pm it is, and I'll explain later.” 

 

With that, the man Hermione had come to rely on vanished down the corridor. She was left to wait for news with her best friend. He had been absent during the worst time of her life, however, as he gripped and squeezed her hand, she felt a wave of relief and familiarity wash over her. 

 

All would be okay. He was here now, and Theo was alive. That was all that mattered. 

 

~~~

 

Five hours later and Hermione was still sat in that same corridor. She had a lot to process, more than she had anticipated.

 

The waiting had been almost worse than the last few months. She now knew he was close and still she wasn't able to hold him. 

 

She had spoken to her parents who had offered to rush over and sit with her. As much as she loved her parents, and would have loved to see them, she wanted to spare them the sight of Theo in this state. They loved him like a son in law already, and she had no intention of upsetting them anymore than this whole situation had done already. 

 

She also wanted the time alone to process what she had overheard, between Adrian and Harry.

 

Harry had left to speak with Adrian a couple of hours ago and hadn't yet returned. She knew where they both were, who they were talking to.

 

When Harry left, she had been resigned to waiting, but a junior Healer came out of the rooms where Theo had been taken.

 

“Is there any news?” Hermione asked, more out of desperation than any hope of actually getting an answer.

 

The junior Healer smiled reservedly. “It's early days yet, Miss. You would be best off heading home and getting some rest. The Healers will notify you as soon as there is news.”

 

Hermione was left to cool her heels again. All these weeks of waiting and hoping… She wasn't going to waste this time now. Standing she headed out of the hospital and Apparated to the Ministry.

 

Keeping a low profile, she moved through the vast building, heading for the Auror office. She was just in time to see Harry and Adrian head into Harry's office. Her friend tilted the blinds to give themselves privacy.

 

“Miss Granger,” said a surprised voice, “what are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, hi, Roberts.” Mentally cursing at being caught so quickly she nevertheless turned to the young man with her best smile. “I was hoping to speak to Harry… about something…”

 

“Weren't you just with him at St Mungo's?” Roberts tilted his head to one side slightly.

 

“Uh… yes, but there was an update! Just after he left…”

 

“Good news, I hope? I mean, it's great news that Theo's safe… but it would be better to know he's in recovery and on the mend, right?”

 

“Absolutely! Well, the news wasn't a huge revelation… just that it'll be some time before the Healers can give a full report…” She stuttered to a halt, catching the knowing look on Roberts’ face.

 

“Well, I'll be sure to pass that on to Harry…”

 

“I'd… um, I'd really like to tell him myself…?”

 

Roberts hid his smile and nodded. “Okay. Why don't you wait in Draco's office? It's right next to Harry's so you'll be able to hear when he's finished.”

 

She squinted at him, trying to judge his motives, but Roberts had already turned away and was heading back towards his desk. “Thank you, Roberts,” she called after him, her voice pitched low.

 

“Hmm?” Roberts looked innocently at an Auror next to him. “Did you say something?”

 

Hermione grinned as she slunk across the room and slipped through the door Roberts had indicated. Part of her wanted to have a root around, see what the ferret kept in his desk, what secrets there might be buried here. She restrained herself, knowing that Draco was unlikely to keep anything untoward here, and moved closer to the dividing wall. She pressed her ear to the thin plasterboard.

 

For a moment she could only hear the shuffling of paper; no doubt Harry looking through reports or updates.

 

“You seriously thought, or still think, Malfoy could be involved in this?” Harry said. “The kidnapping of his best friend?”

 

“Well, Potter, since you haven't been here, you haven't seen the way he has been treating Hermione  _ and _ the comments he made about the whole thing.”

 

“I'm well aware I haven't been here, Pucey. I don't need to explain myself, and you'd do well to remember that. If either of us needs to explain some things, it's probably you! Don't think I haven't seen the news reports about you and Hermione, the gossip in the rags. People could point to you having something to gain just as easily as you've pointed the finger at Malfoy.”

 

Hermione felt herself blush, feeling ashamed that her dear friend had seen those things, even in America.  _ She  _ knew there was nothing going on… not really.

 

“You had no right to remove Malfoy from the case without my sign off,” Harry continued. “We could end up going down the route of discrimination if Malfoy decides to make a complaint, and if he does the Ministry will jump all over that!” 

 

“Potter, you weren't here! I seriously considered he was a suspect. And he refused to identify a body, and left Hermione to do it.”

 

“Pucey, Malfoy and Hermione pretty much hate each other, so that prejudice is old hat. Did it ever occur to you that maybe the chance of seeing his best friend dead may have been too much for him? Not everyone came out of the war unscathed.” 

 

“I'm well aware of that, Potter,” Adrian snapped. There was an edge to his voice that said he was getting sick of Harry questioning him. “When did you throw your hat in with Malfoy?” 

 

“I'm not ‘in’ with Malfoy. But I protect my team, you included. This is not the type of internal PR or politics that I want in this department. You had no substantial evidence, only hearsay or opinion, and that could come back and bite you in the arse. As for him currently being under arrest… Well, we'll get to that. Tell me about this stalker.”

 

Pucey sighed in defeat and proceed to reel off all that they had learnt that afternoon. Hermione held her breath, desperate to hear everything.

 

“The man was called Stan Fineghy. He was a Squib from a pureblood family who had been shunned by his friends and family at an early age. He used to be friends with the Malfoys and Notts back in the day before You Know Who returned, and he was outed as a squib.

 

“It would appear that he was stalking Nott, maybe for years. Possibly before he became famous. We raided his home and found baby photos, toddler photos, and then a wall full of Theo’s face from every tabloid he's ever featured in. There were photos of Theo out and about more recently, maybe the last year or two. Also quite a few of him and Hermione on what looks like their daily lives.”

 

Hermione felt her heart thudding painfully.  _ A stalker?  _ The thought was horrible.

 

“So what led you to him?” Harry said.

 

“Well, funnily enough, this is where I ended up with some substantial information on Malfoy. They met in secret every month at a wizarding pub just outside of London. This carried on after Theo went missing too. Malfoy was meant to have another, yesterday, but obviously was indisposed by questioning. I took it upon myself to visit on his behalf. I got suspicious after watching the Squib and followed him. The rest you know, as I called it straight in.” 

 

Hermione could hear Harry pacing, and could imagine the thoughts going through his mind; they probably mirrored her own.  _ What on earth was Malfoy up to? _

 

“Now, Pucey,” Harry declared, a hint of triumph in his voice, “that is substantial evidence! Cracking work, well done. Let's go have a chat with Malfoy, shall we?”

 

There was a scraping of chairs and the sound of Harry's door opening and closing. Hermione listened to them walk across the main office.

 

_ This can't be happening _ , she thought.  _ Why? Why would Draco help a stalker? Help someone spy on his best friend, kidnap him and help to stop the Aurors from locating him. And would Draco condone torture? _ She shook her head, knowing there had to be more to this.  _ Hopefully, Harry could get some information out of this Stan. _

 

Leaving Draco's office quietly she slipped out and left the Ministry, almost unseen; Roberts gave her a surreptitious nod as she went.

 

Soon she was back at St Mungo's, sat in the uncomfortable chair, waiting for news, her mind churning. The following couple of hours were interminable, alternating between agonising over Theo and the lack of news, and stewing over Draco's alleged crimes.

 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a Healer emerged, looking down the corridor and heading her way. 

 

“Miss Granger? Is there any other immediate family here on behalf of Mister Nott?” 

 

She shook her head. “No, his immediate family have passed. Please tell me he's okay! I'm his girlfriend, as I'm sure you're aware?” 

 

“I am, but I have to ask the question, Miss. Please follow me, and I will give you a full update.” 

 

The next thirty minutes were some of the worst moments of Hermione’s life, and she'd had her fair share of those. 

 

She sat there and listened in detail about the damage that Theo had sustained in the months he had been missing, most of what she had seen from her brief glimpse earlier was superficial. The cuts would heal, even the nasty looking ones, although they felt it was unlikely they would be able to remove all the scars; the injuries had been left for too long without treatment. His broken arm had been the easiest thing to fix, but internally he had sustained a lot of damage. They had done some repair work to his kidneys, and the injury endured to his lungs and airways, the reason his breathing had been so wheezing; the former was down to trauma and suspected beatings, the latter due to breathing the stale air while he was stuck in the hessian sack. The Healer said that Theo had been in the late stages of respiratory failure, another few days and they wouldn't have been able to save him.

 

The Healer rattled off a list of treatments they had started and some that would need to be continued. He also mentioned something about refeeding syndrome which Hermione struggled to take in. She made a mental note to research it later. 

 

He continued to talk about the possible mental effect his kidnapping may have had and recommended counselling for both Hermione and Theo, both together and independently, to help them deal with everything that had happened. 

 

Her first thoughts were that she didn't need counselling, but she politely told the doctor she would consider it once Theo was ready. 

 

“When can I see him?” 

 

“Well, you can visit him shortly once he is fully set up in his room. Given the circumstances, we have put Mister Nott into a private room. But,” he continued before Hermione could interrupt, “we will be keeping him in a magically induced sleep, to help his body fully rehabilitate.” 

 

“For how long?” Hermione asked, desperate to hear Theo’s voice. 

 

“As long as needs be. We will be monitoring all his vitals, and we need all of them to be at the right level before we remove the spells. Then he will wake of his body's own accord. It could be up to two weeks.”

 

She felt like crying all over again, she had him back, but she still couldn’t speak with him. Just to finish off her emotions. 

 

“If you'd like to wait here, Miss Granger, as soon as he's settled I'll come and get you.” 

 

“Thank you, Healer Bord,” she managed in a small voice. “Thank you for saving him.”

 

He smiled, but she saw something in his eyes; she could tell he thought Theo wasn't out of the woods just yet.

 

_ ~~~ _

 

“You know that you'll be the first one we call, the second he wakes up.”

 

She looked up from Theo's sleeping face to glance at Adrian. Her reply was halted as a yawn almost cracked her jaw.

 

“Hermione, you're exhausted, you can't keep doing this!” He crouched beside her, taking her hand in his. She was too tired to take it back and just stared at him, her eyes glazed.

 

“I'm fine,” she whispered with a smile.

 

“At least take a proper break. I can get the Healers to set up a bed for you in a nearby room, and you can get some real sleep…”

 

“I'm fine, Adrian,” she said, a little more forcefully, taking her hand back. “Please don't mother me.”

 

He sighed, standing and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I still care about you, you know? Just because he's back doesn't change that. Besides, I was talking to the Healers…”

 

She leant away from him, eyes tight with annoyance. “Theo will be fine. He will wake up and get better.”

 

“It's been days, and you've been here the whole time. You need a break! You've traded one set of worries for another.”

 

She sighed. “I think I'd like to be alone now, Adrian. Thank you for your concern, as always, but if you could close the door after you?”

 

She didn't look directly at him but couldn't miss the annoyed grunt as he walked away.

 

“I'll speak to you later then.”

 

The door clicked shut, and she slumped back in her chair. Her nails worried at her wrist as she thought of all the charms and healing draughts Theo had been given over the last week, the examinations that left the Healers with concerned faces and whispered conversations held just out of earshot; the positive comments they made directly to her never took away her fears.

 

No, she wasn't leaving his side until he woke up, if then. She knew she was risking her job but had called in every favour she had to be allowed to work away from the office until Theo awoke. With a tired sigh, she pulled the large book onto her lap and immersed herself back into the dry world of Muggle law in the magical world.

 

Soon the only sound in the room was Theo's rough breathing and the scratch of her quill as she wrote.

 

~~~

 

The first thing Theo saw, as painful consciousness returned to him, was her hair. It looked like it hadn't been cared for in a while, and it splayed out in all directions as she nodded on the chair by his bed. He could make out the sounds of the hospital, bustling around him, but it was merely a muted noise as if his head was underwater.

 

Every part of him ached, hurt really. His arm was a dull roar, the centre of his torso quietly screamed at him every time he breathed, and his head throbbed whenever he had a thought. But she was here, and that was all that mattered;  _ he _ was here, and he knew he was lucky to be able to say that!

 

He watched her doze, trying to drink in the sight of her, longing to see her eyes and hear her voice but guessing she needed to sleep. He could see the dark circles under her resting eyelids, could tell that she had barely slept for days. Her left wrist was red and raw, lines of her nails visible where she had clearly been scratching at it with worry. His heart ached for her, seeing how his disappearance had caused her so much stress, but just so happy to see her again.

 

A slight movement in the doorway drew his attention, and he saw a Healer looking up and down the corridor before stepping into the room and pushing the door to. The man walked lightly across the room trying not to wake the witch at Theo's side. He smiled easily and nodded a quiet greeting, taking the chart that hung from the end of the bed.

 

Theo stayed quiet, unsure how well his voice would be after all this time. He could feel that it was rough with each breath and didn't want to disturb Hermione by trying to clear it.

 

The Healer continued to read, and Theo began to get a little nervous. What was it that was so interesting? Surely his Healer should know most of it without having to read the whole chart? If he was new on shift, then he should just be familiarising himself with the latest developments? What had gone wrong since then?

 

“So, Mister Nott, how are you feeling?” he finally said, his voice pitched low. He glanced at Hermione regularly, and Theo noticed that the man had a nervous look in his eyes.

 

“Sore,” Theo whispered, his voice as rough as he had suspected it would be.

 

“That’s to be expected, judging by your chart! Do you know the date?”

 

Theo shook his head.

 

“So, this is the first time you've been awake since you were brought in, I see. What can you tell me about where you have been? Or who you were with, who had held you prisoner?”

 

The way his eyes kept straying to Hermione made Theo pause before speaking again. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a little steadier now, “but isn't that more the Auror’s concern than St Mungo's?”

 

“Of course, of course! And I'm sure they will be along to see you soon.” He gave a nervous titter. “I was just curious, you know? The readers are desperate for news of how you are, Mister Nott.”

 

“‘Readers’?”

 

The man paused and licked his lips. A small bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and Theo’s eyes narrowed, a spike of paranoia working its way through his mind.

 

“ _ Obliviate! _ ”

 

Theo jumped at Hermione's voice, cold and angry, and saw the Healer stiffen in shock as the charm settled into his mind. The witch shoved herself awkwardly to her feet with her wand pointing at the man, wincing as sleep stiffened muscles protested the sudden movement. The crash of her chair hitting the ground was loud in the quiet room.

 

“I had wanted my first words with my boyfriend to be more loving, Mister Shiftly, but instead you had to take that chance from me, didn't you?” Her hair crackled with barely repressed anger as she strode around the bed towards the Healer, who was now babbling in confusion, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him from the room. “Pucey! Perkins! Whoever is supposed to be watching the damn door! Will  _ someone _ deal with this sneaky little bastard for me!?”

 

Theo watched in amazement as Hermione rifled through the Healer’s pockets, confiscating a notebook and Quick Quotes pen, before shoving him out of sight down the corridor. Someone called out loudly, but the witch simply spun on her heel and slammed the door shut.

 

“Fucking vulture!” she hissed. She stood for a moment, breathing hard, fury in every line of her as she ripped the notebook up and snapped the pen in two. 

 

“Theo!” she cried then, dashing across the room and throwing her arms around his neck. 

 

Even in her haste she was gentle and caused him no additional pain. He tried to lift his arms, but the pain was too much. He stopped thinking then, just nestling his head in the crook of her neck and breathing in the smell of her.

 

“Oh, Theo, I'm so glad to see you awake at last!”

 

Her tears dampened his neck, and he felt his own trickle into her hair as he just held her, ignoring the pain his movements caused. “I wish I could hold you, Hermione,” he whispered, “but my arms don’t appear to be working…”

 

She laughed through her tears. “I've missed you so much!”

 

“Miss Granger,” a stern voice said from behind them, “Mister Nott is badly injured and is not to be manhandled!”

 

“I'm sure he can cope with a little manhandling,” Theo said with a small smile, hearing Hermione's soft giggle. He felt a shiver of pleasure chase through him at the feel of her breath on his neck.

 

“Enough, please,” the Healer said, stepping forward. Hermione reluctantly released Theo as the Healer began her examination. “You are healing, Mister Nott, but it will be a slow process. Your injuries are numerous, and we cannot treat them as aggressively as we would like. Your body will most likely reject any of the stronger potions we try to give you, as you have been deprived of adequate food and water for a number of weeks.”

 

Hermione stood to one side, hugging herself and chewing nervously on her fingernails.

 

“How long was I gone for?”

 

“You were taken in July,” Hermione said quietly. “It's the first of December now.”

 

Theo stared at her in shock.  _ Five months? _ “Shit…” he breathed.

 

She gave a sad laugh. “Pretty much, yeah…”

 

“Indeed,” interrupted the Healer, sternly, “and as such it will be several days before we are sure that you can handle anything more than the most basic care. It has been over a week since your treatment started, so you are hopefully past the worst of it, however, if we give you too much food and water your body may react badly.” She smiled then, and her stern demeanour softened. “It is good to see you awake though, Mister Nott. Your breakthrough in reversing the damage caused by dark magic was an incredible discovery.”

 

Theo felt his cheeks heat at that. “I…  Well, I didn't really do all that much,” he stammered. “Others took it and managed to make it into a viable cure…”

 

“No!” she interrupted, her stern look back again. “You are the reason my granddaughter can walk now.” She smiled again, her eyes slightly misted. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for my family and me.”

 

It was the first time he had ever spoken to anyone who had benefited from his discovery, and he was both embarrassed and humbled by her words. He found himself remembering Robert Granger's words to him, seemingly years ago;  _ no matter who takes it further; you will always be the reason they did. _

 

She didn't give him a chance to think of a response. “So, we will continue to keep your intake small for now and keep an eye on you while we increase your nutritional and medicinal intake. Your febrile symptoms have receded at last, which is a positive sign, so things are looking up! We can use small healing charms to try and speed up the process of getting you back on your feet and healing some of those injuries of yours.”

 

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

 

“My pleasure, Mister Nott. Now.” She turned to Hermione, who was wiping her eyes. “No manhandling!”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

“Please, call me Marybelle. Or Healer Dawlish if you’d prefer. I may be old now, but I refuse to be called ‘ma’am’ just yet.” She gave him a cheeky wink while Hermione tried to control her own shocked expression.

 

After the lady had left, Hermione kissed Theo on the cheek. “My hero.”

 

“Stay with me, Hermione,” he said as she started to walk away.

 

“I'm not leaving this hospital until you're ready to come home.” She took his hand and kissed it softly. “But I really have to pee!”

 

With a cheeky grin and a flirtatious wink of her own, she went into the adjoining bathroom.

 

The room suddenly seemed smaller without her in it. His heart was thudding, and his chest was tight.

 

He felt scared again.

  
_ ~~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 will be posted on 17/09
> 
> Over the next week I also plan to try and get all the beautiful aesthetics that the lovely GaeilgeRua made for us uploaded onto the story. They're pretty, and everyone should see them!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note… Much of this chapter was written in the Elephant Café, Edinburgh. Where JK Rowling wrote the Harry Potter books.

A couple of days had passed since the manhandling incident, and Hermione had only left Theo’s side to go to the toilet or phone her parents to update them on Theo’s progress. Which was minimal but she updated them as promised nonetheless.

 

He drifted in and out of sleep, his whole body was exhausted, and a few times he had passed out mid-conversation. He almost always seemed to awake abruptly, a cold sweat on his brow; sleep was clearly not restful.

 

She had owls trying to reach her through the corridors of St. Mungos some from friends and family but most from reporters, she'd even received a howler due to her disinterest in talking to the press.

 

The latest thing had been the Floo. There was a fireplace in Theo’s room, but it had now been removed from the Floo network after an attempt to both call in and Floo in by an ingenious reporter.

 

Adrian had now taken it upon himself to hold the Auror station outside Theo’s door. She was sure this wasn't a great use of his time, but maybe he was glad of a moment's respite from the last few months. He always had a smile for her when she left the room.

 

Hermione understood the interest, but as per usual, the media didn't understand how invasive their actions were. Or in this case how damaging! 

 

She stared over at the man she loved. How much he had changed over these agonising months. His previously tanned complexion was pale and sallow.  His face had thinned and was gaunt looking.

 

She still only knew tidbits of what had happened to him but what she did know was that it was the kind of thing that would give her nightmares forever more let alone Theo. She knew he had been starved. You could see it. He had taken on the look of someone who had suffered through one of the world wars. The Healers had done wonders with the many injuries, but she couldn't help but feel it might be a long road emotionally and psychologically for them.

 

All she wanted to do was hold him tight and never let go. Never let anyone take him away from her again.

 

She lay back in the uncomfortable chair, watching him sleep, her thoughts tormented. Soon tiredness overtook her, and she slept too.

 

~~~

 

Theo woke abruptly. His heart was pounding, a cold sweat bathed him, and he could feel his skin crawling as a nameless dread smothered his mind. The lights in the room were low, but bright enough for him to identify where he was: St Mungo’s. Safe. He saw her then, and that feeling of panic started to ease. She was at his side, as she always was.

 

He needed her. Her very presence made him feel safe. He knew there was an Auror at his door, knew that security had been ramped up since the Floo incident and the howler, but he constantly felt on edge unless she was by his side. He had nearly had a full blown panic attack yesterday when a Healer came in to administer his potion and Hermione had been in the loo.

 

He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was four in the morning. His body clock was shot to pieces. He hadn't been allowed out of bed since he had arrived and already he was feeling a bit stir crazy. Deep down he knew that his legs would not be able to support his own weight, even though they had healed well since… the incident. He could barely bring himself to think of it.

 

Instead, he turned to watch Hermione sleep: she didn't look comfortable, her neck at an angle that would surely hurt in the morning. If he had his wand, he'd Transfigure the chair into something more comfortable.

 

This woman was everything to him. He had seen very few glimpses of his appearance; the reflection in a Healer’s glasses, a blurry image in his water jug. He knew he looked horrific, dreaded when he could get his arms to work properly, and he could explore the mess of his face. Yet this beautiful woman had looked upon him as she always had. He hadn't seen one grimace or look of pity. All he had seen from her--in her--was love. He desperately wanted to feel her, to hold her in his arms. 

 

“Hermione.” There was no response. “Hermione,” he called a little louder.

 

Her eyes were wide open, and she was out of the chair and across to him in a flash. “Theo! What is it? What’s wrong?” she said, her voice verging on panic.

 

“I need you,” he whispered apologetically.

 

She smiled sadly, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “You have me, my love, I'm right here.”

 

“No, I need to hold you. I want to feel you.”

 

“Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“Mina, I'm on so many potions I bet you could tickle me and I wouldn't feel a thing. I just need to be with you, and that's the only way I can. Please.”

 

She nodded and helped him to shift over; to be fair, she had to do most of the work. Thankfully she didn't question his grimacing face or the grunt of pain that escaped him as he moved. 

 

She pulled back the covers and slipped in next to him. He couldn't move to his side and was stuck on his back, but she had already cottoned on to that.

 

“I'll shimmy down, don't worry. But before I do, I need to give you something.”

 

Before he could ask, she was leaning over him, and her mouth found his. Her lips were like feathers, and it felt heavenly. For months any touch he had received had been the harsh reality of pain; burning pain, the kind of pain that made you cry out for death. He had honestly wanted to die on multiple occasions, just to end the brutality he had been suffering. Those thoughts when the pain had stopped, and he was alone had tormented him. The guilt of giving up and leaving her behind ripping through him. His captor had known how to torture both physically and mentally! He shivered at the memory.

 

As if knowing where his thoughts were going, she deepened the kiss just a touch to bring his focus back to her. He deepened it further ignoring the sting of his split lip protesting. He found the strength from somewhere to lift a hand and rest his fingers on her wrist.

 

He felt the dampness on his cheeks when she gently pulled away. “Theo,” she gasped.

 

He needed her to know his tears were not filled with sadness but relief that he was home. She was his home.

 

“Your lip!” She pointed towards his mouth, and he realised her top lip was smeared with blood. 

 

His heart pounded in fear, and he almost shouted when she darted out of bed, panic striking through him that she was leaving. As quick as it had come, it left when she turned back round with a tissue. Crawling back in beside him she dabbed at his lip. The emotion nearly cascaded once more as she attended to him so gently and tenderly. Once she had finished and kissed his cheek once more, she shimmied down so her head rested on his good shoulder. 

 

He sighed contentedly as his hand found hers to hold. 

 

Her breathing began to even out, and when he thought she was asleep, he whispered the words he had been longing to say. “I love you, Hermione.”

 

Barely a heartbeat passed when he heard her sleepy reply. “I love you too, Theo.”

 

~~~

 

“What's this?” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but he could at least appreciate the fact that his health was improving. Far too slowly for his liking but at least he was alive and free. Well, technically held hostage by the Healers, but, comparatively, that wasn't so bad.

 

“This,” Hermione said, sauntering into the room, the box balanced on her hand, “is a cake! I thought we could celebrate your birthday.”

 

“That was last month, my darling.”

 

“Well, you were… um, indisposed at the time.” She gave a small grimace of embarrassment, still not sure how to talk about Theo's captivity.

 

Theo looked away, his eyes troubled. Swallowing hard he tried to smile at his girlfriend but ended up mirroring her grimace.

 

“Sorry,” she whispered.

 

“Hey, it's okay.” He tried to reach out to her, but his arm wouldn't cooperate. “What did you get me?”

 

“I got sir a fine Victoria sponge, made by my mother's fair hands.”

 

“Oh good, you didn't make it…”

 

“Charming!”

 

“Well, I remember there was a pizza…”

 

“I got distracted!  _ And _ I’m sure it was  _ you _ distracting me!”

 

“It was a charcoal disc…”

 

“I tried! I’ve never been very ‘chef’y’.”

 

“You do make a mean nut roast, I guess” Theo allowed with a grin.

 

She smiled, shaking her head in amused exasperation. “Theo,  _ you _ cooked that dinner.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?”

 

“Yes, and modestly declared your gravy to be better than sex!”

 

“It was good gravy,” he said with a grin. “And your mum makes an amazing sponge cake…” 

 

Hermione perched on the edge of his bed and opened the box. The cake was lightly dusted with icing sugar and had three white candles placed on one side, his name spelled out in blue icing. Below, it said 'Welcome Home, Son’.

 

Theo looked away for a moment, his eyes suddenly misted. His throat ached. He heard Hermione whisper something, and a little blue light illuminated the room. Looking back he saw her balancing a small blue flame on each candle.

 

“We'll have to be quick before Marybelle comes back and tells me off for trying to burn the place down.”

 

“She is a bit of a tyrant, isn't she?” he whispered. Hermione held the box towards him, and he blew on the candles. He couldn't get a large enough breath to make a decent effort; the flames barely flickered. He tried to sit up, but his arms wouldn't support him.

 

Hermione tried to keep her expression neutral, knowing he wouldn't want her pity, but the sight of his struggling made her heart ache. She moved the box around, muttering about the cardboard getting in the way, and dropped the side of the box down to expose the cake more. She avoided his eyes, knowing he would see through her. “Try again,” she said quietly, ready to cancel the spell herself.

 

He tried to smile past the pain he felt: not physical pain, the pain in his heart as he processed the look in her eyes, the sorrow she tried to hide from him. He drew a breath, and it caught in his throat.

 

Healer Dawlish chose that moment to come back, finding Theo twisted to the side, coughing and choking; Hermione gently rubbing his back and apologising. The box lay upside down on the floor, abandoned; the cake was a splattered mess of sponge and cream, the blue flames still dancing cheerfully atop the candles.

 

~~~

 

He had awoken later to laughter and voices at the edge or his door. He knew both voices immediately: Adrian and Hermione.

 

“I'll have pissed Draco off more this year than any before it if I take his Witch Weekly crown!”

 

He heard Hermione’s laugh. “Well, I'm sure it will be a welcome blow to his ego. Probably the least of his concerns too...“

 

“Well, saying that,” he interrupted, “Theo is still very much in the running again, you know? It seems the kidnap only adds to his intrigue and calibre of hotness. Did I use those air quotes correctly?”

 

Theo didn't catch what was said next, the pair’s laughter took over. He felt a surge of anger at the conversation, so his living nightmare was funny to them, was it?

 

“Theo has never really been comfortable with the whole Witch Weekly thing,” Hermione said then. “I think your new position is safe. Eligible Bachelor of the Year is yours to rule if you can snatch it from Draco. Theo is back, and I'm not letting him go anywhere. Enjoy it, Adrian. There are plenty of perks, or so I'm told.”

 

Theo softened, smiling at that last comment. She hadn't been laughing at him; she loved him. He really wanted to be able to get out of this bed and make them know he was awake and listening. 

 

“I'll look into taking some of that advice, Hermione,” Adrian said. “Though you know how I feel about…”

 

“Adrian…”

 

“Okay, I understand. Well, it hasn’t changed.” There was a pause. “So, how are you doing now? Since the… Well, you know? The…”

 

An alarm went off down the corridor and Theo didn't hear the next part of Adrian's question. He did, however, hear her response and the shift of tone in her voice. 

 

“I'm doing fine, and I'm trying not to dwell. I've had enough sadness, and right now I have Theo back. He needs me, I think, and I'm focusing on this, him, us I mean.” A moment of silence and then, “And before you ask: no, he doesn't know yet. It's too soon for that conversation.”

 

Suddenly more noise erupted in the hallway; a gaggle of women's voices and cries. Adrian yelled, “Security! How the hell did you lot get back here?”

 

A multitude of voices shrieked a host of answers. 

 

“Adrian, can I have your autograph!? ...Adrian, I'm in love with you! ...We snuck past security, he was asleep!“

 

The door opened fully, and Hermione rushed in, closing the door on the ruckus that was taking place. Theo caught a small glimpse of Adrian, surrounded by women.

 

Theo closed his eyes, not wanting her to realise he had been unwittingly eavesdropping. He felt her hand slide into his, a feather-light kiss touched his forehead. 

 

“Oh, Theo... what a mess I've been in,” she whispered. “I've needed you so badly, and I'm so glad you’re back. I've told you every day how much I love you, even when you couldn't hear it. I just hope you know.”

 

He felt a wet spot hit his cheek and knew she was crying. 

 

Should he ‘wake up’? Admit to hearing her conversation and ask her what had happened, ask what he didn't know? But then he felt her head on his chest and felt her silent sobs. 

 

It was too late then; he carried on pretending to sleep whilst she cried over something he knew nothing about. It broke him a little bit more.

 

After a little while, she had moved back to her chair and fell into an uncomfortable looking sleep.

 

~~~

 

Theo was in his usual position. He was fed up of lying down but, alas, that was how he found himself, watching Hermione doze, his mind filled with the guilt and worry last night’s events had brought.

 

It was barely half eight when Harry Potter entered his room. Pucey was on his heels.

 

“Theo, good to see you, mate.”

 

Theo found that he genuinely liked Harry, and not just because he was Hermione's best friend: he was always warm and kind. True to form, Harry came over and grabbed Theo’s hand, squeezing it gently.

 

“Really good to have you back.”

 

Theo nodded. “Thanks, Harry. Good to be here! Trust me, so good.”

 

“I hear they’ve upped your treatment at last, and you’re allowed to eat real food!”

 

“Finally! I’ve been getting really tired of gruel.”

 

“Well, that’s good news. Hopefully, you’ll be out of here in no time! This isn’t a social call though, I'm afraid. I need to ask you a few questions if that's okay?” He summoned a chair to the side of the bed opposite Hermione, his voice low so as not to wake her.

 

“I'll do my best,” Theo said. He pointedly looked over at Pucey, who hadn't said a word and stood there, his piercing gaze alternating between Theo and Hermione.

 

Harry noticed his silence and looked around. “Thanks, Adrian. I can take it from here.” 

 

Theo watched in interest as Adrian's face clouded over in frustration and possibly a hint of anger. 

 

“Don't you think I should be involved, Potter?”

 

Theo didn't look at Harry. He didn't need to, he could hear the underlying warning in Harry's voice. _ I am your boss and do not question me _ , it said _. _

 

What Harry actually said was, “No, I've got this, thanks. It only requires one of us.”

 

Adrian scowled, and in a very Snape-like movement glided out the room his Auror coat flying behind him.

 

“Trouble at mill?” Theo quipped, as the door shut behind his old classmate.

 

“Oh, the usual; questioning authority. Yes, he's been leading the case, but I'm back now and want to be involved more. Between you and me, I think I gave him a little too much freedom. Plus the press is blowing smoke up his arse too!”

 

Theo chuckled. “I thought I heard something about that. So, what can I do for you, Harry?”

 

“I need your statement basically, I need you to take me through what happened to you, what you remember.”

 

Theo took a deep breath. Adrenaline already pumping through him. He glanced over at Hermione; she was still out of it. He was thankful as he wasn't sure how much of this he wanted her to hear. 

 

“Let’s start at the beginning. What do you remember about the morning you were taken?” Harry had pulled a notebook and a Muggle pen from his pocket

 

“Not a lot, I’m afraid,” Theo said. “It's all a bit of a blur. I remember Hermione had left early for work; she had an early meeting. I woke up around seven, maybe a little after. I tried to fall back asleep, but it was the morning, so…”

 

Harry smiled and nodded, understanding.

 

“I think,” Theo continued, “I was just doing some chores around the house when the doorbell rang. It was Draco, and I was surprised to see him. We didn't have plans, but he said he was on a split shift, so he thought he'd try and catch me. We chatted for the rest of the morning, and then once he had left, I think I fell asleep on the sofa. Not a regular thing for me, I assure you, but I felt strangely drained after Draco had left. I woke to the sound of the doorbell, but I felt worse than ever, positively ill. Mina had had a bug the previous week, so I remember thinking that I had caught that.” Theo tilted his head, frowning. “Then that's where it becomes a blur, to be honest. I remember opening the door, and a man stood on the step...”

 

“Are you sure it was a man?” Harry interjected, leaning forward. 

 

“Well, no... but they lunged at me and brought me crashing to the ground immediately. I mean, I just assumed it was a man, especially with what happened later. I guess, given the state I was in, it could have been a strong woman. I remember fighting back, and we took the fight into the living room.” He went quiet, trying to remember more. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears now as he made himself think about it.

 

“Did they use magic?” Harry asked. He wasn’t looking at Theo as he scribbled in his notebook.

 

“Funny you mention it, but I don't think so. There were crashes and bangs, but I think that was things being thrown or us crashing into them. I remember, needing to get out... I tried to grab the Floo powder to escape... but there was a knife. I remember the powder pot falling from my grasp as….”

 

“As?” Harry prompted.

 

Theo could barely hear him. His mind was filled with the glint of the knife. The stabbing feeling he had felt numerous times over the months. His captor had a fondness for knives, and Theo wasn't sure that there was a part of him that hadn't felt its sinister touch. He drew in a shaky breath. “...as I was stabbed with it. I remember the pain in my back… I don't remember anything after that until I was... wherever it was.”

 

Harry nodded again, not looking up. “Did you ever see their face?”

 

“No.” He had wanted to so many times, wanted to stare upon the face of the person doing this to him, to understand  _ why _ . He glanced towards Hermione; he wasn't sure if she was still sleeping. It looked like she was holding her breath.

 

He remembered doing that a lot too--holding his breath as the putrid smells of his own vomit and sweat wafted around his face; holding it again to avoid drowning while his captor poured water over him. He knew that was a Muggle form of torture. He was sure his heart might burst from his chest at any minute. He needed to stop, needed to stop Potter talking. He didn’t want Hermione listening to this. He didn’t want to live it again.

 

“Was there a particular form of torture your captor favoured? I ask because you mention the knife, and from the Healers’ reports there seems to be a lot of injuries consistent with one.”

 

The glint of the knife flashed before him again. The feel of it slicing through his face like scissors to paper. The effortless glide and the blinding pain that followed it.

 

The door to his room opened, and it was like a switch; he was back there again, strung up, his arms burning white hot with pain, the darkness shielding the monster from his eyes, only the sound of a door opening in the distance to announce his captor’s arrival. And with it, the furtherance of Theo’s torment.

 

“What is it, Pucey?” Harry's annoyed voice, came from a long way off.

 

Theo’s eyes were blind, his limbs trembling. He didn’t hear Adrian’s answer if indeed there was one, but a soft hand grabbed his shaking one. 

 

“Harry! That's enough. Theo, you don't have to do this now. Harry, seriously, what were you thinking!?”

 

Theo didn't hear anything else; his ears filled with a rushing that sounded like a train. He couldn't control his breathing, the sense of panic at that beast returning to torture him some more was back. Even though in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't the case, he couldn't dampen the feeling.

 

He felt cold sweat rushing from him as he desperately tried to gasp in air. 

 

He caught a glimpse of Hermione’s panic-stricken face, a flash as Harry ran past him. And suddenly a Healer was in front of him, and as a wand waved, he fell into dreamless darkness.

 

~~~

 

“He suffered a panic attack, Harry. His body shut down on him. Again!” Hermione tapped her foot, glaring at her friend. She had her back to the door, barring Harry entry back into Theo's room. “I know you need to do this, but he isn't ready. The Healer explained that there are so many things that could set this feeling off. He may very well suffer panic attacks for the rest of his life.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “You should have told me you were going to do this, or at least the Healers. You should have  _ woken _ me!”

 

“Pucey told me he had spoken to you and the Healers, and we’d been given clearance!” Harry said in quiet despair. 

 

“No, you've been given clearance to  _ visit _ . As a  _ friend _ , same as everyone else. He's up for short visits from people. Not interrogations. Maybe you misunderstood Adrian.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, scrubbing a hand through his messy hair. She knew he didn't think he had, but she had been very clear with Adrian.

 

She had awoken as Harry had asked him that final question. She had only opened her eyes when she realised he wasn't answering and saw his usually calm, warm eyes filled with a wild panic, saw his shaking body.

 

It was an image that would haunt her, she was sure. She had never seen him look scared, and she never wanted to see it again. She would protect him at all costs.

 

“I'm pulling Adrian back to the office,” Harry was saying. “I have no clue why he's stationed himself here. The case needs the experience he has in the field. I'll be pulling Roberts over here instead. I think you've met him before?”

 

She nodded. “I did wonder why Adrian wasn't working the case. Surely you need your best guys on the job.”

 

“Indeed we do, but I'll be having words about this cock up. Give Theo my apologies when he wakes, please? I really feel awful.”

 

“I will do, Harry. I'll let you know when the Healers give permission for more in-depth talks; please believe me when I say I understand you need to get this information from Theo… just not yet. I need to go and cancel my parent's visit before they leave. I don't think he needs any more stress today. I might ask the Healers to stop all visitors for the time being.”

 

“Except you?” Harry said with a grin.

 

“Of course, except me. I'm an exception.”

 

“You're exception _ al _ , Hermione,” Harry said with a laugh as they walked towards the exit.

 

“And you are a flatterer! You're not getting around me that easily, Harry Potter.”

 

Once outside, she hugged her best friend and watched him leave before pulling out her phone to make the call. 

 

~~~

 

“Let me by, Roberts, I'm here to see Theo.”

 

“Sorry, Draco, no can do.”

 

Hermione stirred, hearing the raised voices outside the room. The door was open a crack, and she could hear them clearly, saw their shadows moving on the glass. She stood and crept closer.

 

“Look, you insufferable rookie, Potter gave me the all clear to visit earlier, so I'm here for my fucking visit. Get out of the way, and let me see my friend!”

 

“Not a chance, Draco. I'm really sorry about this, but you can't go in. I know you're not being held any more, but you're technically still a person of interest.”

 

Hermione was stood by the door now, able to see out into the corridor where the two men confronted each other a few meters away.

 

“Okay, Roberts, I get it. You want to make a good impression on Potter, show him you're good at what you do.”

 

“That's right. It's important that he sees me as a capable Auror. Surely you feel the same way?”

 

“No, you naive idiot! What Potter thinks of me is irrelevant!”

 

“But don't you want the respect of your colleagues?”

 

“Merlin's Beard, you are so green…” Draco sighed. “I have clearance. Let me in.”

 

“I'd like to, Draco, I really would. I like you, yeah, but it's just not allowed. Permission was pulled after an… an incident earlier.”

 

Draco pushed forward, grabbing Roberts’ coat by the lapel. “What incident? Is Theo okay?”

 

“Easy, easy, he's fine. He had a panic attack while Harry was asking him some questions and had to be sedated. Miss Granger thought it best that all visits be suspended until Mister Nott was feeling better.”

 

“She bloody would,” Draco grumbled. He smiled then, a calculating look in his eyes. “But I didn't know about that because I left home before the message reached me.”

 

“That doesn't change the facts here, Draco. I get what you're saying, I do, but I just told you what the situation is now, so…” Roberts sucked his teeth and gestured vaguely. “You see my problem here?”

 

“You don't want to test me, boy.”

 

“Well, no. Plus there's really only a few years between us, so I feel the 'boy' comment might be a little harsh. I also don't want this to get ugly. Mister Nott is sleeping. Miss Granger is too, last time I checked on them. I don't want to wake them, and I don't want to hurt you.”

 

Draco sneered, and Hermione had to stifle a giggle as she thought about the two men posturing. Well, Draco was puffing up, spoiling for a fight. Roberts looked his usual demure self.

 

"Oh, please,” Malfoy scoffed. “I reckon I could take you in a fight.” He drew his wand. “Besides, I'm armed..."

 

There was a flurry of movement from Roberts. His hands flicked outwards like knives, one coming up and under Draco's arm, the other striking his hand and snatching the wand from his nerveless grasp. Roberts moved away again, tucking the wand into his robes; he bent his knees a little, one foot a half pace back, turned outwards slightly. His hands were lifted before him, one at his waist, the other out in front.

 

Hermione's eyes widened as she recognised the stance. She covered her mouth with glee, hoping for Draco to provoke the man further.

 

"You don't seem to be armed anymore..." Roberts said with a grin.

 

Draco scowled and shook his arm, trying to get the feeling back into it. "Move, Roberts! Merlin help me, I will kick your arse if you don't step out of my way."

 

Roberts tilted his head slightly, his stance not shifting a hair. "You can try, but it wouldn't end well for you."

 

"Doubtful, we've had the same basic training..."

 

"Well, not strictly true..." Roberts laughed.

 

Draco tried to use the distraction against him, lunging forward with a swift punch to the face. Roberts seemed to sway away from the fist, stepping backwards slightly and sweeping his arm up to catch Draco's punch, deflecting it upwards. Almost seeming to rebound, Roberts powered his back foot forward with a shout, the sole striking Draco in the stomach and catapulting him down the corridor with a grunt of pain.

 

Hermione almost stuffed her hands into her mouth to stifle the sound of her laughter. She was  _ so _ glad she had woken up in time to see this!

 

Draco staggered to his feet. “What the hell?”

 

“Sorry, you punched me before I had chance to tell you,” Roberts said apologetically. “I'm supposed to warn you beforehand that I'm a martial artist...”

 

“I don't give a shit what you paint, you're going to pay for that!”

 

“No, I'm not a painter, it means…” Roberts began, but Draco was already charging him, snarling. “Draco, please…” Roberts held up his hands, backing up. “Oh damn...” he sighed. He crouched into a ready combat stance. “Fine.”

 

Hermione tried to follow what happened next but it was so fast that it seemed a blur. One second Malfoy was lashing out at Roberts, the next Roberts twisted around Malfoy's body, driving his hip into his waist, and flipping the man onto the floor with a crash. Her eyebrows almost vanished into her hairline.

 

“Look, I don't want to do this, Draco, but I can't let you in! Just do us both a favour and go home, please.”

 

“You'll regret that!” Draco spat, staggering to his feet and squaring up to the exasperated man again.

 

“What, will your father hear of this?” Roberts snapped, his temper being held by a thread.

 

Hermione giggled and ducked out of sight, sure that Roberts’ eyes flicked to the doorway. Internally she winced at Roberts’ comment.

 

“Funny,” spat Malfoy, “but seeing as my father's been dead for years, probably not!”

 

Peering round the door again Hermione saw Roberts’ shoulders slump slightly. “Draco, I'm so sorry! I didn't… Look, this is not how I expected our first real one on one interaction to go, Draco! I thought it would be a bit more civil if I'm honest.”

 

“What, maybe you think I'd like dinner and a dance? Don't be ridiculous, Mudblood.” Draco’s voice dripped with disdain and Hermione stifled a gasp of outrage. She saw the slight twitch in Roberts’ jaw, the tightening around the eyes and her heart ached in sympathy.

 

“And there was me thinking you were past all that prejudice stuff,” Roberts said quietly. “Go home, Draco. Last warning.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Well, you'll definitely have to splash out for at least a drink or two if you want that.”

 

Malfoy gave a growl and lunged forward. Roberts braced to meet him, his guard up. Draco’s first punch to the face was blocked, but instantly another was thrown that connected with Roberts’ stomach. He only gave a small grunt, grabbing Draco's wrist and twisting it round into a painful position. He grimaced as Draco tried to break free and gasped in pain.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Roberts muttered, pulling Draco round and pinning him against the wall. His wrist was twisted painfully with a pressure point gripped between firm fingers; Malfoy couldn't resist without extreme pain and had to go with it.

 

“What the hell is this?” he snarled, his back to the wall, staring into Roberts’ dark eyes.

 

“Hapkido. This is a wrist lock. I'm a Black Belt, 2nd Dan, by the way."

 

"I have no idea what you just said..." Draco said, his voice strained as he tested the limits of his movement. Every time he tried to do anything Roberts simply twisted his wrist ever so slightly, and the pain stopped Malfoy in his tracks.

 

"It's a Muggle martial art that focuses primarily on self-defense. A lot of fun,” Roberts enthused, seemingly missing the sarcasm in Draco's voice. “It took a lot of effort to fit all my training in during my school summer holidays and between this job, but totally worth it. Very useful too. Most non-Muggles tend to think with their wands... especially the arrogant ones.”

 

There was a pause and Hermione could feel the tension as Draco glared at Roberts, hearing the unsubtle jibe. She crouched, open-mouthed still at the events of the last few seconds.

 

“I'm going to let you go now, okay?” Roberts paused for a moment until Draco nodded, his body relaxed, and held his other hand up in surrender. Roberts stepped back, placing himself once more between Draco and the door. He seemed relaxed, but Hermione could tell he was ready if Draco made a move he didn't like.

 

Malfoy straightened, circling his aching arm and massaging the shoulder. “Merlin, it was like punching a rock! You’re stronger than you look, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I work out and practise every day. I'm up for 3rd Dan next year, so, you know...”

 

“No, I have no idea. Still.”

 

“Well, it basically means I can subdue you in more ways than you can count.” He shrugged and gave an embarrassed smile. “So, are we cool?”

 

“Not by a long shot.” Draco turned and stalked off.

 

“Draco,” Roberts called, holding out Malfoy's wand. “Forgetting something?”

 

When Draco tried to snatch the wand away, Roberts held onto it making Malfoy growl. He pulled harder, and Roberts relinquished his grip, backing up.

 

“Please don't try anything now you have that back,” he pleaded.

 

Without another word, Draco walked away. When he was gone Roberts sank against the wall with a sigh. “You can come out now, Miss Granger.”

 

“You knew I was there,” she said, stepping into the corridor.

 

“Yes, I saw you pretty early on.”

 

Hermione gave a laugh and a little dance. “That was amazing! Oh my God, the look on Malfoy's face! This has made my day, you have no idea…”

 

“Please,” he interrupted, “don't say anything about this to anyone.”

 

“But why? That was hilarious! His delicate ego could do with being knocked down a peg or two. Can you imagine what the other Aurors would say?”

 

“Yes, I can,” Roberts said with a grimace. He looked towards the corridor where Draco had vanished and sighed again. “I would really rather that this incident never went any further than ourselves. I don't like the idea of people using this against Draco. He just wanted to see his friend, and I basically humiliated him. I feel terrible for doing that, and if you tell others about it, it'll just make things worse.”

 

Hermione deflated and smiled sadly. “You care about the ferret's ego?”

 

“Not so much that, but I do take care not to make people feel bad if I can help it. Draco is a good man, for the most part, and I don't want him hurt.”

 

“You know he's going to make you pay for this?”

 

Roberts nodded. “I know. And I'll take that when it comes so he can maybe feel better.”

 

“If you like someone you shouldn't take abuse from them, you know?” Hermione reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

 

He smiled and patted her hand. “You should probably try and get some more sleep before Theo's sleeping draught wears off. I can't imagine you've been able to get more than a few hours here and there.”

 

He stepped away, settling into the chair on the opposite side of the corridor and smiled at her until she went back into the room.

 

She paused, the door nearly closed. “Do you think you could teach me some Hapkido? I tend to be one of those magical folk that think a wand can solve everything.”

 

“I don't think it's something you would need, or at least I  _ hope _ it's not.”

 

She shrugged. “I hope so too, but it never hurts to learn something new. I'm usually a bookworm, but it might be fun to learn something different.”

 

Roberts nodded and gave a small laugh. “It is good fun, but not easy. If you want to learn, I'll certainly do what I can to help; teach you a couple of moves you may find useful. You have to promise me you'll only use them in defence though.” His voice was stern. “I don't want to hear about you breaking journalist's arms, okay?”

 

“Deal,” she said with a grin.

 

“Alright then. Now go get some sleep. Goodnight, Miss Granger.”

 

“Goodnight, Roberts,” she whispered.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will post Thursday 20th September


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 3

Two days later Theo was deemed fit to have visitors again, and there was almost a queue of people waiting to see him! He had regained the use of his arms, his legs moved well enough, so he now tended to be sat up as opposed to lying flat; it was a massive mood boost for him!

 

Hermione’s parents had been over first thing, desperate to see him. Hermione had been thankful her parents had acted their normal selves around her boyfriend. He visibly relaxed when neither her mum or dad made too much reference to what had transpired over the last few months. To be able to shake hands with Robert, and give Jean a hug, lit his face with a big smile.

 

For the first time in a while, Hermione saw glimpses of the man she loved. Too often he had been melancholic, and even in his lighter moods he had still seemed withdrawn.

 

Blaise had followed behind her parents, ecstatic to see his best friend. Hermione had left the two of them alone and took the time to pop home, freshen up and get some new clothes for both her and Theo. She knew he was getting sick of hospital robes. A pair of pyjamas might be more comfortable. 

 

The hot shower had done her a world of good, and once she returned to the hospital, she went and spoke with the mediwitch team about next steps. This afternoon, once visiting hours were done, they were going to get Theo out of bed and try walking. They advised her it might not work, but they were confident that he had enough strength in him to walk a short distance, aided at least. 

 

She walked happily down the corridor and nodded at Roberts before reentering and found Malfoy in her seat.

 

“Granger.” His voice for one held no hint of malice or sneer. 

 

“Malfoy.” She looked to the bed and realised it was empty. “Where’s Theo?” 

 

“They came by to pick him up for some tests and scans. Last minute decision. Rather inconvenient, as it cut into my time with him. And, before you ask, my wand is with the receptionist, and Roberts frisked me before I got anywhere near this room.”

 

“Oh.” She walked to the other side of the bed and sat down in the only other chair in the room. 

 

They sat in silence, Hermione having no clue what to say to him. His comment had not only reminded her that he was a suspect in Theo's kidnapping--that a friend of his was responsible for the torture of the man she loved--but also that she hadn't had a full catch up with Harry about progress.

 

Ten awkward minutes passed when thankfully the door opened, and Theo was wheeled back in. His face lit up when he saw Hermione. 

 

“How was the shower?” he grinned.

 

“Lovely!” she said with a laugh. “You might even be allowed one soon. They are going to let you walk about.”

 

“Are they sure that's wise?” Draco interjected standing to help the porter transfer Theo from chair to bed. “Have you recovered enough?”

 

“Well, we will soon find out, won't we,” Theo winced as someone's hand found a particular tender spot on his ribs. 

 

“I'm sure the medi-team know what they are doing, Draco,” Hermione advised kindly. She missed the glare he gave her as she turned back to make sure Theo was comfortable.

 

She sat back and contentedly drifted in and out, listening to the two men talk and catch up. Ostensibly she was working, but she kept an ear on Draco's side of the conversation, especially. Theo didn't know about Stan yet, didn't know he had been stalked that the man had been a close friend of Malfoy's.

 

There was nothing out of place, however, and Draco's demeanour gave away nothing of how he might be feeling. She frowned to herself, partially hidden behind her book; this was a puzzle, and one she needed to solve. She was determined to catch up with Harry soon.

 

Half an hour or so later the Healer she had spoken to earlier came in and suggested now might be a good time to attempt walking before Theo got too tired.

 

Draco took that as his cue to make a move and said his goodbyes. Playfully he grabbed Theo and planted a kiss on his forehead. He even offered a small smile to Hermione on his exit. 

 

Theo chuckled at her surprised face. “He’s warming up I see?” he smirked as the Healer helped him edge to the bed. 

 

“Well, it would appear so!” She turned back round to face him. “Would you like me to transfigure you some proper clothes?” she asked, eyeing his hospital gown.

 

“Please!” 

 

The Healer chuckled, “I’ll give you a minute, I need to get a walking aid anyway.”

 

“A what?” he questioned Hermione. 

 

“A walking stick, I suspect. If it helps, you will use it, mister!” she said as she found her wand and transfigured his gown into a set of loose trousers and t-shirt.

 

“Yes, ma'am!” he laughed. “You’re bossy! While you’re transfiguring things, change that chair into something more comfortable before you sleep in it next; I don’t want you getting another crick in your neck!”

 

“Yes, sir!” she said with a grin.

 

There was a knock at the door, and the Healer walked back in, a walking stick in his hand. 

 

“Right, ready to try this? I’m Matt, by the way. I suspect we will be seeing a fair amount of each other over the next few weeks and months with physio. We’re going to start off slow anyway but I suggest that the cane here should be used every time you’re walking for at least two months, it will just give you some extra support and take some of the strain off of other aspects of your body. That sound okay?”

 

Theo nodded his agreement and took both the hand and walking stick he was offered.

 

Hermione found herself holding her breath as she watched him slowly, with the support of Matt, ease himself into a standing position. 

 

“Breathe, woman! I’m the one who might fall over not you!” Theo chuckled at the look on her face. 

 

She knew though that whilst he was joking she could see the grit of his teeth that showed off some of the pain he was hiding.

 

She took his lead though. “Concentrate then, so you don’t fall over!” 

 

Matt laughed. “You two crack me up. Now, do you want to try and walk with me?”

 

Hermione watched Theo push himself to take those first steps. She couldn’t help the small tear that slipped down her cheek. 

 

Theo ignored the tear and knew it wasn’t out of pity, but happiness. Whilst the pain was almost unbearable he pushed through it. The irony was that he’d felt worse and this was a positive pain. He leant more on Matt the further they went and Matt, in turn, helped to ease some of the strain. Theo was grateful when he was being helped back down onto the bed.

 

“That was great, Theo!” Matt enthused. “I know there was some pain and we are going to work to ease that and make it easier, I promise you. I’ll leave you both to it for now; I think that's enough excitement for one day. I’ll leave the cane there.” He popped it by Hermione’s seat, and with a nod to her, he left.

 

Hermione walked over to help Theo get more comfortable in bed and took the moment alone to share a kiss. When Hermione deepened the kiss, he was pleasantly surprised.

 

“Where did that come from, Miss Granger?” He breathlessly asked her once they pulled apart.

 

She grinned, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, I used to have a crush on a man with a cane when I was younger. So maybe the sight of you with a cane turned me on a little.” 

 

His eyes danced with mirth and after a moment he burst out laughing, holding his sides.

 

“What?” Hermione asked. “It’s not  _ that _ funny.”

 

Her confusion only made him laugh harder. “I’m assuming your ‘man with a cane’ was Lucius?” he managed to gasp out between laughs.

 

“Well, maybe.” She knew she was blushing now. “What is so funny about that?”

 

“Draco came back in just as you said that, and left with such a look of disgust on his face I’m surprised he didn't slam that door!”

 

“Oh, sweet lord, why me?!” she muttered, glancing at the door, her face bright red. “Maybe that corner we turned just turned back again!”

 

“True, but that's the best part of my day so far! I needed that laugh! Thank you.”

 

She swatted him. “Oh behave! Now I won’t be able to look at him in the eye!”

 

“Well, at least I now know the competition was an old man with a cane. I might be able to compete.”

 

And then they were both laughing. 

 

Roberts who was stood at his station outside of the door couldn’t help but smile at the sound of their laughter. He had seen Hermione’s pain over the last few months and could physically see Theo’s. It was so nice to hear them sound so in love and happy together. 

 

_ Long may it continue _ , he thought.

 

~~~

 

Hermione was stood in the shower the water cascading down her body. It had taken her a while before she would even consider using her shower after her loss, but eventually, a practical sense had overtaken her; it still made her shiver when she stepped over the threshold into its small space, and occasionally she still found herself crying. 

 

She was currently feeling intense guilt. Since Theo had been found, her thoughts of their child had been repeatedly pushed away to the back of her mind. She knew she would have to tell Theo, but after so much hurt and sadness she wanted to revel just a little while longer in him being back with her again. 

 

She didn't want to leave his side, but she also knew she didn't want to suffocate him and she needed these moments to pull herself together now that she knew he was safe and well. 

 

Every time she thought about what she had to tell him she knew she had no idea how to broach the subject. She didn't even know whether their child had been a boy or a girl. When she had heard that little heartbeat for the first time she had pictured a little girl, with her curls, and Theo’s complexion and intense green eyes. 

 

However, she honestly didn't know. Their baby’s life had been snuffed out as quickly as it had begun, and Theo had no idea it was a ‘could have been’.

 

The tears snuck up on her abruptly, leaping out of her in a choking gasp. Her head bowed as she covered her mouth to stifle her sobs, the tears mingling with the hot water. The water began to cool, indicating how long she had been stood there, forehead against the tiles. With the cooling stream of water, she gave herself a shake, telling herself to pack it in and pull herself together. 

 

The midwife had suggested counselling, but Hermione had instantly refused the idea at the time; War Heroine, Hermione Granger, telling some Healer about all her woes? What a ludicrous idea. In the light of day, when the emotion and anger had started to fade, she did wonder whether it might not be a bad idea; especially now that Theo would undoubtedly need some. 

 

She turned the shower off and watched as the final streams of water flowed off her flat stomach. It was almost an insult in itself how quickly her body had returned to its pre-pregnancy state. No one would ever have guessed now. She pushed the door open, and her mind flashed back to a happier time before Theo had disappeared. 

 

She had just finished her shower and turned to step out but found her exit blocked by a fully dressed Theo. 

 

“Well, well, well. Look where I found the lioness,” he drawled, a smirk on his lips, and a glint in his eye that she knew not to trust. A quick glance downwards showed that the smirk and glint weren't the only things on display. The significant bulge in his trousers was always a highlight. 

 

She couldn't spare the time today, as much fun as it would be. She had an important dinner to attend, and she could not afford to be late. She tried to step past him, but his body blocked her. 

 

“If the snake doesn't move,” she growled, “the lioness will have him for dinner.”

 

“The snake sincerely hopes that's true!” His voice had turned husky, as his hands snuck round her waist, pulling her wet body towards him. 

 

She wanted to fight him, but when his lips found her neck, and his hands cupped her buttocks, she knew he'd won. 

 

“The snake is going to be in trouble later,” she moaned in his ear, before stealing his lips for a kiss. 

 

“I'll accept my punishment gladly,” he laughed, as he lifted her and pushed her back against the shower wall, the water cascading over them. 

 

She never remembered at what point his clothes had disappeared, and she forgot the excuse she gave at dinner for being an hour late; but she remembered every kiss and touch he had delivered in that shower, which they had stayed in until the water had gone cold. 

 

A shiver brought her back to present day as she realised she was still stood there naked without a towel to dry her or warm her from the evening chill coming through the bathroom window.

 

She gave a wry smile as she considered whether she should get a new electric shower for her flat, based on the amount of times she seemed to lose hot water. Glancing at the clock as she got changed, she saw it was still early--five am to be precise. Her sleeping had still not improved, and when she had realised she was not going to get any in that uncomfy chair at the hospital, she had told Roberts she was going to pop home for a shower and to start getting some things sorted for Theo. She should probably do as Theo said and turn the chair into a chaise or something when she slept in it; she had been told off by Healer Dawlish for sneaking into Theo’s bed before.

 

She wasn't sure if Theo would want to return to his house, so she was going to make sure both his house and her flat were ready for him to stay in. She had been thinking of setting up his office as a downstairs bedroom for them until he was strong enough to tackle stairs at ease or Apparate at the very least. 

 

Theo had yet to do a single piece of magic. His wand had not returned with him, and she was determined to search his house top to bottom for it. Roberts had found it amongst the mess, immediately after Theo had been taken. She vaguely remembered Adrian had returned it to her safekeeping, and yet when she had looked, she had been unable to find it. She knew Theo's house was on lockdown to anyone bar her so it must be there, or her flat. 

 

Knowing her, it would be under a stack of paperwork.

 

She finished getting changed and left for his house, determined to find his wand and be back by Theo’s bedside before he woke; he had been anxious yesterday when she returned after he had woken yesterday. She didn't think it was anything to worry about, but they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and he had awoken to an empty bed and chair, so she understood how he must have felt. 

 

She opened the door on his house and went to work. 

 

~~~

 

The chair was empty again when he woke. That made two days in a row. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, fingers clutching at the bedclothes.

 

_ Where was she? And what was that look Harry had given her yesterday? _

 

“Roberts?”

 

“Mister Nott?” The Auror popped his head round the open door, a concerned smile on his lips. “What can I do for you, sir?”

 

“Where's Hermione?”

 

“Miss Granger said she was just popping home. She had some things to take care of before you woke up.”

 

Theo nodded, avoiding Roberts’ eyes. Roberts closed the door behind him after casting a charm on the corridor.

 

“Are you okay, Mister Nott? You seem troubled.”

 

Theo smiled, the expression feeling fixed, even to himself. “It's nothing, honestly.”

 

“I know it was tough, but we really appreciate the information you gave us last night. Harry and Adrian are hard at work putting it together with everything we have from the crime scene, trying to get all the pieces to fit together.”

 

Theo nodded and drew a shuddering breath. He had managed to talk to Harry last night; managed to answer his questions without fainting or have a funny turn. Part of that had been thanks to the woman who had been at his side. She had held his hand throughout, squeezing gently whenever he seemed to falter.

 

There had been two moments when the two friends had exchanged surprised, troubled looks. The first was when he had mentioned about Hermione being pregnant, and how it had helped keep him stabilised when he was on the verge of a breakdown; the pair had looked at each other quickly, and Theo had felt a stab of worry.

 

Hermione smiled and whispered, “We should probably talk about that soon… I didn't know if you'd heard.”

 

“I barely remembered it. I'm sure he was using a Memory Charm on me, in between torturing me with the Cruciatus Curse.”

 

“He… what?” Harry said, surprised.

 

Theo looked at him, noting the shock in the bright green eyes. All thoughts of the baby were pushed out of his mind for the moment. “I thought you knew. He tortured me with the Cruciatus, several times…”

 

“We had no idea,” Harry whispered. “We knew about the knife, but magical torture has never come up… and a Memory Charm?”

 

The friends exchanged a look again, and this time Harry quirked an eyebrow, causing Hermione to blush slightly.

 

“What's going on?” Theo asked, feeling a cold sweat starting on his back and their strange behaviour.

 

“Well, apart from Hermione clearly listening in on private Auror meetings… Theo... Stan, the man who was holding you, was a Squib. The use of any magic puts things in a whole different light.”

 

“That's not possible,” Theo whispered.

 

“I know, and that worries me.” Harry stood, already throwing his jacket on. “I need to bring Malfoy in for another chat, I think.”

 

The man had left, Hermione chasing after him and leaving Theo with his fears, doubts, and questions; questions that had lasted all through the rest of the evening and into today.  _ Why Malfoy? What did  _ he _ have to do with this Stan? And what  _ was _ that look when he had mentioned Hermione being pregnant… I have to talk to her about it today. Merlin, we’re going to be parents! That’s a conversation that needs to be had! She’s looking slim still… when exactly does a lady start to show…? _

 

“Mister Nott?” Roberts prompted, bringing Theo back to the present.

 

“Sorry, I was…” Theo shook his head. “Are you guys sure this Stan is a Squib?”

 

Roberts nodded, pulling up a chair at a nod from Theo. “Definitely.”

 

“Are you allowed to tell me anything? I have a lot of questions.”

 

“I understand, and yes, I can answer some questions, but there may be some things I can’t say.”

 

Theo nodded his understanding, indicating for Roberts to go on.

 

“Okay, so he was an associate of Draco's, it seems.”

 

“Draco? Is that why Potter wanted to have a chat with him? He’s not a suspect though, is he?”

 

Roberts grimaced. “Not as such, but he is a person of interest. The man was called Stan Fineghy, a family friend who had his magical status outed during Voldemort's brief reign over the Ministry. I say associate, but I think they may have been friends because Draco was one of the few who didn't shun him after the war. The rest of his family, and the Malfoys, turned from him. I don't know much more than that.” He shrugged and grimaced slightly. “Draco's still not talking to me, so I only know what I'm allowed to know.”

 

“Is that because you told him you could beat the shit out of him with one arm behind your back?” Theo sniggered at the shocked expression in Roberts’ eyes.

 

“I never…! She told you about...? Ah, man… I thought she'd keep that quiet!”

 

“Don't worry, this goes no further. You can't have really expected her to keep such a wonderful development from me though? Based on how those two feel about each other most of the time?”

 

Roberts shrugged. “I just thought… No, never mind.” He cleared his throat, eyes flicking away.

 

Theo felt a stab of fear; something dark surfaced in his mind -  _ what we’ve got here - _ and he stomped on it ruthlessly before it could take hold again. “What is it?” He could hear a little of that tension in his voice and tried to moderate his tone. “Something wrong?”

 

“It's just I don't like secrets, so I fully understand why she told you; you're in love, and partners should always tell each other the truth. But, at the same time, I wanted her to keep this one.”

 

“Don't worry, I'll only use it to make Malfoy squirm when he gets too uppity with Mina.”

 

“Oh, no, please don't, Mister Nott!” Roberts cried. “He didn't see Miss Granger the other night. He'll think  _ I _ told you, and then he really will be angry with me!”

 

Theo glanced at him quizzically, but Roberts looked away.  _ Well, that's a turn up,  _ he thought with an inner smile. “Okay, I'll say nothing, I promise.”

 

Roberts almost sagged with relief. “Thank you! I really appreciate it.”

 

“So, tell me more about Stan.”

 

“Are you sure? I don't want you exerting yourself.”

 

“I'll be fine. I'm at the stage of needing to know why. Like I said, I have a lot of questions.”

 

“Well, maybe this is something that Harry should be talking to you about?”

 

Theo was already shaking his head. “No, I respect Harry and appreciate what he's done, but he's a busy man. It usually means he's in a rush when giving information out. I want to hear it from someone that has time; you've drawn the short straw and are basically stuck here until I get out,” he said with a grin.

 

Roberts laughed at that. “Well, that's true. I don't mind though. Dawlish is probably glad of a break from all my questions.” He sat back in the chair. “Stan appears to have been watching you for quite a while. We searched his home and found photos of you, and of you and Miss Granger together. He seems to have tracked your appearances in the Daily Prophet too; there were a lot of newspaper clippings about you and your discovery.”

 

“Merlin's Beard…”

 

Roberts rubbed the back of his neck. “I really shouldn't be telling you this stuff… I don't want to risk another… you know…”

 

“I'm fine,” Theo said quickly. He felt the tremor in his chest and tried to breathe deeply. “I'm not going to have another panic attack.”

 

The two men looked at each other, one trying to convince the other. After a minute Roberts nodded. “Okay, but there's worse, I'm afraid.”

 

“Shit, what could be worse?”

 

“Baby pictures.”

 

“What!? Agh, shit…” Theo grimaced as he leant forward and his stitches pulled. He slumped back immediately, groaning.

 

Roberts was by his side instantly. “Easy, easy, I'm sorry.”

 

Theo shook his head, eyes closed against the pain. “I'm okay. Just surprised me.”

 

“I know, it surprised us too!”

 

“How did he get them though? I didn't know my father had kept any pictures of me as a child.”

 

“That's what we're investigating. Looking through his place, trying to find out as much as we can. I promise you'll be updated as soon as we know anything. Our early guess is a stalker; a fan of what you had done.”

 

“So what's he saying about it all?”

 

“Stan?” Roberts said. “Nothing, I'm afraid. He was killed in the raid when Adrian’s team rescued you. He caught a stray jinx in the heart: killed him instantly.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Pretty much, yeah. We’re having to work a little in the dark, unfortunately. We don't know what his ultimate goal was, but keeping you for himself seems likely.”

 

“Had a weird way of going about it. First, he barely says anything, then further down the line he's torturing me!”

 

“I'll be honest,” Roberts said, fingering his chin, “that's the bit that has all of us puzzled. He used the Cruciatus curse on you, yet he was a Squib. It doesn't add up.”

 

“What does Adrian think?”

 

“He has... theories.”

 

“And that’s where Malfoy comes in?”

 

Roberts glanced away. “Yes, but Harry is hesitant to lend that too much credence. I’m not a fan of it either. Especially as Adrian's attention is… split.”

 

“With what?”

 

Roberts gave a snort of laughter, then immediately bit his lip, looking away as his face flushed.

 

“What? What's Adrian up to?”

 

“I… I really shouldn't say anything else. It's none of my business really…”

 

Theo was about to push for answers when there was a chime from outside. Roberts was on his feet, and by the door in a flash, one hand raised towards Theo.

 

_ Like I'd be following _ , Theo thought, rolling his eyes.

 

Roberts opened the door, wand raised, then smiled. “Miss Granger, welcome back. He’s awake.”

 

Hermione stepped into the room, smiling at Roberts as she did so. Her warm gaze enveloped Theo and she moved quickly across the room, her heels tapping on the floor. She looked amazing, her hair clean and fresh, bouncing with her steps, light, powder blue dress decorated with flowers and butterflies, floating around her legs. She gave him a lingering kiss on the lips before dropping down into her chair. “I wanted to be back before you woke up,” she declared apologetically.

 

“It’s okay,” he said. Even he could hear the slight tightness in his voice.

 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She reached out for his hand, thumb caressing his fingers.

 

He nodded, unable to put into words exactly how he was feeling. Everything he had heard last night and this morning had raised some serious concerns in his heart, and her not being here when he woke had stirred up a horrible feeling of paranoia  _ (what we’ve got here) _ once more. Once again, his rational mind knew he was safe, that she loved him and had simply been freshening up, getting changed, looking ravishing. The hind part of his brain, the part that saw enemies and secrets, wondered and worried.

 

_ If Stan was a Squib, who was using the Cruciatus Curse? An accomplice or most likely a mastermind, perhaps. Maybe Malfoy  _ was  _ involved… he always had seemed jealous of my relationship with Mina… if he got rid of me, he could have her for himself if he wanted… _

 

He stopped himself from falling down the yawning darkness at his feet, pulling away from the clammy hands of paranoia.

 

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” he said. “Roberts was just about to tell me about what’s happening with Adrian.” He glanced over at the door, but Roberts had already slipped out of the room.

 

“Has he showed you today’s paper?”

 

There was a hint of something in her voice that gave him pause again. There was something there… something he should be worried about, he was sure.

 

~~~

 

Her knock on the closed door was hesitant. There was no answer.

 

“Theo?”

 

Nothing.

 

She sighed, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “I don't want to talk to a bathroom door. Please?”

 

She waited.

 

“I know it's hard to hear, my love,” she said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “It will take time, and I'm here for you. You know that, right?”

 

She turned and slid down the door, settling onto the tiled floor. Her fingers played with the grouted edges, nails picking at the loose bits and flicking them away.

 

“Things are looking up overall. The Healer said that the scars will continue to fade, and walking will become much easier with time. You're already doing great. I mean, you got in here pretty quick!” The joke didn't elicit a response, and the smile dropped from her face. “I'm sorry, Theo. I can cancel the subscription to the Prophet if you want me to? They're only printing fluff pieces anyway. It's not like they have done any fact-checking. Please don't let it get to you; don't let  _ them _ get under your skin.”

 

She smiled sadly, knocking on the door gently with the back of her head. “Please don't shut me out,” she whispered. “I've missed you so much, and I just want to hold you… prove to myself that you're really here again. We really need to talk about…”

 

She faltered, not wanting to set him off again. She sniffed, wiping her eye. Her fists clenched and the sharp stab of her nails helped to hold her back from the brink, forcing herself to face the cause of their current situation.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Theo. I am so, so sorry. I wasn't sure if you even knew, and when I realised... I didn’t know  _ how _ to tell you. I didn’t want to add to your pain… you’ve been through so much.”

 

There was a long silence, then, “Was it…?“ His voice drifted through the door; quiet, tired, hurting.

 

Hermione lifted a hand and rested the back of it against the door, imagining she could feel his back, resting against the other side.

 

“We don’t know,” she said quietly. She heard his breathing, short and ragged. Her heart ached, knowing what he was feeling. She turned slightly, pressing her cheek to the cool wood, one hand still reaching out to him, the tips of her fingers white from the pressure. “The baby was too small, too young.” She didn’t bother to wipe away the tears now, letting them fall.

 

For the longest time, there was no sound except their breath. Then the lock on the door clicked.

 

Hermione shuffled to the side, leaning against the door frame, as the door cracked open. Theo was sat on the tiles, his eyes red-rimmed. He stared out at her and her lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. She held a hand out, and after an eternity he reached out and wrapped her fingers in a tender grip.

 

They sat that way, holding hands over the threshold of the bathroom door until Healer Dawlish came to conduct her morning tests.

 

~~~

 

Theo was trying to sleep. It was the middle of the night after another long day of sadness, paranoia and frustration. 

 

He had struggled to walk today. The Healers had said it was normal to have good and bad days, but he just saw this as yet another failure. 

 

His body was letting him down when it should be almost back to normal. 

 

His mood had, if anything, worsened since he had woken up. Hermione not being there had set him up for the day, followed by Roberts’ information, and then the newspaper and all it had entailed. That had almost finished him off.

 

It was almost an insult when Hermione had given him even more bad news; she had found his wand, but it was broken, snapped in half from being caught between two massive stacks of books.

 

He hated himself for his reaction. He had driven her from the room in tears, his hateful shouts chasing her where he himself could not. The look of horror on Roberts’ face had made him feel even worse, and he had slammed the door to get away from the reproachful sorrow in those dark eyes. The fact he then fell, his cane skittering away from his grasp while trying to get back onto his bed, felt like karma taking a swing at him too.

 

It had been an irrational reaction, and he knew it. Strangely the loss of his wand just added to the grief of losing their baby, and his anger and frustration had boiled over. He didn't even have to purchase a new wand to replace it just yet. He had a spare, of sorts; his father's wand, that he had taken as his own after the old bastard was dead, was kept in a drawer in his study. He could use that one in the meantime. He didn't like it, but it obeyed him.

 

An apology would definitely be due to Mina; he knew he had been an arse, and with time to reflect knew why his reaction had been so strong.

 

Guilt.

 

Purely and simply, he felt an endless guilt for not being here, for not protecting his child, caring for the mother of his baby, keeping them both safe. He wished Stan was still alive so he could kill him himself!

 

Hermione didn't return to the room for most of the day. He asked Marybelle to convey his apologies to Hermione, but she refused, saying the walk to deliver the apology in person would do him good. Her disappointment had been clear in the set of her jaw.

 

Left with time on his hands, he had seen the hateful Prophet, and almost involuntarily picked it up again from where it lay on his bedside table. The headline reminded him of those he had received, back when he had first made his discovery. 

 

This time it wasn’t his name splashed across the papers in celebration; it was Pucey's. 

 

HERO AUROR, ADRIAN PUCEY, TO BE HONOURED AT MINISTER’S CHRISTMAS BALL!

Saviour Of Noted Researcher, Theodore Nott, In Line For Eligible Bachelor Of The Year!

 

The heading was splashed across the front page, with several further pages dedicated to the ‘wonder’ that was Adrian Pucey.

 

There was a step by step guide on how he had tracked down Theo. Personally, it sounded. No mention was made of the Task Force, other than to call it Pucey’s ‘small team’. No other names were mentioned, and Pucey was being given full credit!

 

A colourful and, in Theo’s opinion, fanciful biography of Pucey filled a whole page. How they had managed to find so much to write about was a miracle in itself, but many of the anecdotes from his years at Hogwarts were extremely overblown. 

 

The petition to ask Witch Weekly to abandon the usual ‘Eligible Bachelor’ contest, and simply crown Pucey the winner here and now was laughable. Theo didn’t care about the contest, even though he had been runner-up to Malfoy every year for the last half a decade; this hero worship of Pucey simply made Theo uncomfortable. He didn’t  _ like _ Pucey, he never had, but he also didn’t want the man to fall into some of the traps he had when the press had started their love/hate campaign with him.

 

Theo’s dislike of Adrian spiked on the next page though, and things started to get really uncomfortable.  _ Adrian Pucey, War Heroine Granger’s Pillar of Support! _ it boldly declared. There were paragraphs dedicated to how Adrian had been Hermione’s sole support network during Theo’s disappearance, photos of the two of them together over the months; all perfectly innocent and reasonable.

 

Until you got to pages five & six.

 

The state of Hermione and Theo’s relationship, now that he was back on the scene had earned itself a double page spread! The main question being about Adrian’s ‘eligible’ status; was it in danger, and whether Hermione would leave Theo for him, especially since Adrian was so obviously in love with her! There were questionable pictures of the two during Theo’s absence; hugging, a kiss on the cheek, a warm smile. All could be innocent, but his mind had been turning these details over and over ever since. 

 

Theo forced himself to look again at the part of the trashy piece that had sent him staggering from the room earlier on. A speculative piece on the identity of the baby’s father, the debate on whether it had been Theo’s or Adrian’s, and the ‘lingering’ question of whether the baby had been terminated because of this uncertainty.

 

As he had read those words this morning, everything had clicked horribly into place--the look, her lack of bump--and he lifted his gaze from the page. Her beautiful brown eyes had been filled with tears. Dropping the newspaper to the floor, he had fled, somehow managing to get across the room and into the bathroom without falling, barely able to see through his tears.

 

He had looked at those photos again, while he had been alone with his doubts, his fears, and his guilt. If he looked agonisingly close, one of those photos looked as if they were kissing. He resisted the powerful urge to throw the paper across the room in anger and had spent the afternoon working himself into a white-hot rage.

 

His feelings of guilt were consumed in the fire of his anger; she should have told him what had happened, she was keeping secrets from him, what right did Pucey have to touch his Mina, and why had  _ she  _ been content to let him do it? 

 

He remembered the man’s behaviour at school. Pucey was conniving, manipulative and wasn't afraid to play dirty to get what he wanted. It still amazed Theo that someone with such character traits had decided to become an Auror!

 

He needed to calm down before he spoke with Hermione. Being in a furious rage would not make for a rational conversation. The effort was such that he exhausted himself and he had drifted into a fitful sleep.

 

He had awoken again after midnight, finding Hermione asleep on the chaise next to him again. His heart had softened at the sight of her, her skin lit by the pale moon. His anger bled away, leaving only his guilt gnawing at him. Sleep continued to evade him, and he worked himself back up with angry thoughts on both Adrian and the journalists that had the audacity to print such libel. He had every intention of suing the Prophet for the inflammatory pieces it had printed about Hermione!

 

He did throw the paper across the room in rage then, and it hit something in the darkness. He swore as whatever it was fell to the ground with a crash. 

 

Hermione woke with a start. “Theo?!”

 

“It's okay, I knocked something over. Come here… come sleep with me. That thing isn’t the most comfortable, and I need to hold you.”

 

Still half asleep she nodded and stumbled across to him. The anger and the fear just seeped away from him as soon as she snuggled into him. 

 

“I am so sorry for what I said earlier.” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You were made for my arms, Hermione Granger. I think you should stay here in them forever.”

 

He was met with a tiny snore in response, and he smiled, sleep soon claiming him too.

 

~~~


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 4

_ I get to go home tomorrow. _

 

The thought had been rolling around in his head all day yesterday, and had mostly stopped him from sleeping; he'd managed a couple of cat naps but still didn't feel remotely refreshed.

 

“You've been doing really well,” Matt said yesterday, just after a successful walk with the cane. “You managed to make it along the corridor, turn around, and come back to the room without falling. That's a massive achievement, Theo.”

 

“It doesn't feel like a massive achievement when I have to sit down and rest for an hour after going to relieve myself. And I sit down to do it too!”

 

Matt smiled at Theo's scowl and clicked his tongue. “You know you're doing great, and the fact that you can do that now means that Healer Dawlish will be able to let you go home. And all before Christmas too! I honestly thought you'd be here longer.”

 

Christmas. It was less than two weeks away and, if he was honest, Theo hadn't thought about it all that much. So much else had been going on, the holiday season had sort of passed him by.

 

“I'm so happy!” Hermione squeaked when he was settled in his bed once more.

 

His legs were trembling, and he was breathing hard, so could only offer up a wan smile.

 

She clutched his hand, bringing it to her lips. “Everything is tidy and ready for your return,” she said, misty-eyed.

 

“I'll be the judge of that,” he said with a grin, squeezing her hand briefly. “I'm sure everything will be great.”

 

_ Would it though? _ he thought as he listened to Healer Dawlish explain the regimen of potions and healing charms he would still have to have for the next few weeks. The regular check-ups to make sure his wounds had fully healed. The physio sessions with Matt, as well as the daily exercises the Healer had prescribed for him.

 

“This makes no sense,” Hermione said, annoyed at something Healer Dawlish had said. 

 

Theo tried to focus again; it was something to do with either the potions, or…

 

“He will need something more, to help him… adapt, surely.”

 

“I assure you, Miss Granger, Theo will adapt to walking with a cane very well. You've seen how much better…”

 

“That's not what I mean,” Hermione said, lowering her voice slightly.

 

Theo frowned, wondering what she was thinking, and why she wasn't saying it  _ to _ him, rather talking  _ about  _ him like he wasn't in the room.

 

“He gets scared, nightmares. Isn't there…” She stopped, waving her hands in the air, lost for words, seemingly.

 

“Miss Granger, Theo is on enough potions. To be honest, one of his potions is simply to stop him developing a stomach ulcer because he is taking so many potions! And the healing charms will pick up the slack where the potions can't reach. There's a dreamless sleep draught that I can show you how to mix?”

 

Hermione huffed and tossed her head. “No, what we've got here is failure to communicate! He's been traumatised! Physically he will heal, and with only a few scars to show for it.” She sighed. “But he relives it, every night. He needs counselling or something. Doesn't St Mungo's offer something like that for trauma sufferers?”

 

“Well, it’s not something I put much store in myself; nothing a good walk in the fresh air won't cure. I find it strange that you would request such a thing for Theo. You made your feelings on the matter clear, a while ago…”

 

“That was different,” Hermione said hurriedly. “We'll just figure it out ourselves, I guess.”

 

“I'm right here, you know,” Theo muttered after Healer Dawlish had left, the petulant tone in his voice making him grimace. “Could you not talk  _ about _ me?”

 

“Sorry, Theo,” Hermione said, moving over and touching his hand. “I just wanted to see…”

 

“I heard,” he muttered, pulling his hand away from hers. “I don't need anyone coddling me, Hermione. I'm well aware of what I go through at night.”

 

“Okay,” she said quietly, “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's fine,” he said, though his voice told a different story.

 

“I need to go and speak to Harry this afternoon. I think he may want to have someone stationed at your house, for at least a few days, once you get home.”

 

“I don't want a babysitter, Hermione. I just want to go home.”

 

“We will, Theo, tomorrow. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

“It's going to be a long time until everything is 'fine’.”

 

“I'll… I'll be back soon,” she said quietly, her eyes misted and lip trembling. She turned and left the room quickly.

 

Theo opened his mouth, then closed it again. He punched the bed and swore. Staring up at the ceiling he berated himself; he knew he was being ridiculous, paranoid, but that phrase of hers… Every time he heard it, it made his heart race, and he couldn’t get the traitorous thoughts to leave him alone. At least he would be home again soon, away from this damn antiseptic stink, the constant pokes and prods, the indignity of trying to stagger across the room to the small bathroom before he had an accident.

 

_ Hermione had  _ nothing _ to do with my captivity _ .

 

~~~

 

Theo looked around his new bedroom and couldn't fathom how he was able to date someone who was so messy. Hermione Granger, who came across as so sorted and had her shit together, was a secret mess.

 

He was grateful for her all the same. She had barely left the house unless she absolutely needed to--such as to drop her work projects in--and had been around him when he needed her to be, but also gave him the space he needed too. Just knowing she was upstairs, or a room or two away, was always comforting.

 

While he had been laid up she had moved his study around, shrinking the desk and moving the bookcases to make room for the bed; she had brought the bed from her flat and installed it here, so he didn't have to battle with the stairs, except to bathe. The downstairs toilet was just in front of the door, tucked under the staircase, the kitchen was through the open doorway to the left, the front door straight down the hallway ahead, with the living room accessible via the archway in the kitchen or the hallway. There was a window in the back wall of his study that looked out onto the garden, and they had been greeted for the last two mornings by Quincy, tapping on the glass and hooting happily at him.

 

She had done so much for him, and had unspokenly moved in. He was sure there were plenty of belongings still back at her apartment, but he couldn't be sure. Hermione’s apartment had certainly thrown up over his house, and as a consequence, he was beginning to think he needed a bigger one. 

 

The offending Prophet from the other day had been disposed of before he had left St Mungo's, but it still played on his mind.

 

They hadn't spoken in any meaningful way about the elephant in the room. They had cried a little more together, but in truth, he felt totally helpless. Another thing he couldn't help with or deal with himself, he reflected bitterly.

 

The thought of Hermione carrying his child was so bittersweet. He would have been over the moon. And yet that was something else he had lost. He had been denied the opportunity to experience that joy, the fear he would no doubt have felt at the thought of being a father, of making sure nothing happened to Hermione during her pregnancy. To speculate on whether they would have a girl or boy. Girl, he secretly hoped, thinking of what he had lost as a child. 

 

And to lose her. A dream realised and ripped away within mere moments of each other. It hurt. Worse than the physical pain he had endured for those months.

 

This loss felt like the sharpest pain of all.

 

He moved a pile of clothes and sat down on the edge of the bed. This was the bed in which she had muttered she was pregnant. 

 

He remembered fully now. Remembered as he drifted the words she had said and kicked himself for ever allowing himself to forget them. The most important words of his life. 

 

And she had dealt with it all by herself. The loss, the pain. It was his fault, he knew it deep down. They would be awaiting their bundle of joy in a few months if it hadn't have been for all the stress his disappearance had caused Hermione. 

 

He wiped his eyes as tears threatened to fall.

 

“Theo? Are you ok?” her worried voice interrupted his quiet.

 

“I'm fine.” He snapped quickly. 

 

She nodded mutely and disappeared from the doorway. 

 

It was moments like this he wished he was alone. He didn't want her pity, to be babysat, to be surrounded by mess. His inability to keep his thoughts reasonable only added to his frustration.

 

His anger, misery and temper peaked, and with a roar, he picked up the mass of clothes beside him and threw them at the wall.

 

Halfway up the stairs, his girlfriend stifled a sob with her back to the wall, listening to his pain.

 

~~~

 

Damp, cloying darkness wrapped his head. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't see. He tried to run, but his legs refused to move.

 

The terrible scraping sound came again. He could almost hear the sparks flying from the blade as it shrieked across the stone.

 

His throat closed up as he tried to scream, nothing but a mewling whimper escaping his throat.

 

A hand clamped around his upper arm and the blazing trail of fire sliced through his skin. Blood spurted from his neck. It trickled down his throat, filling his lungs. Painfully bright light filled his vision; a stinking hessian bag flying into the air above him.

 

A mane of bushy hair loomed over him, and a knife, dripping with blood--his blood--was waved in his face. The point cut through his cheek and scraped over his teeth.

 

“What we’ve got here,” hissed the figure holding him down. She placed the tip of the knife over his heart and bore down on it with her full weight. “Is failure!” The knife slid downwards, bumping past his ribs, cutting a deep slash through his flesh, piercing his heart. “To communicate!”

 

He bolted up in bed, drenched in sweat. Every part of him screamed in pain; remembered pain, residual pain from the dream, real pain.

 

Someone grabbed his arm, and in the half darkness of the room, he saw the bushy hair that normally filled his heart with love. With a strangled cry he threw himself away from the monster of his nightmare. His legs were tangled, and he landed in a heap on the floor.

 

“Theo!”

 

He couldn't breathe still, his heart hammering through his chest. Crab-like he scrambled across the floor, away from the shadowy figure on the bed.

 

“Theo, it's okay, it's me…”

 

His back thumped against the wall, and he hunkered, head in his hands. His lungs screamed at him. Fog wrapped his mind like a wet flannel.

 

Soft hands touched him, gathered him into their embrace. A shuddering gasp echoed as he finally managed to draw breath. Panting, crying, he held onto the arms around him; a lifeline in the dark.

 

“I've got you, love. I've got you, you're safe.”

 

Tender lips planted soft kisses across his forehead and cheeks. He couldn't stop his arms from shaking, shivering like he was hypothermic.

 

The pair sat that way for an hour, as they had for the last couple of weeks, only this time Theo was home. The familiar surroundings weren't helping though. She whispered words of comfort, bringing him back from the edge of his panic. The pain began to subside from his healing wounds, a dull ache replacing the stabbing fire.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered at last, his voice trembling.

 

“Stop, you don't need to apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for, Theo!”

 

“This happens every night. You haven't slept properly in days.”

 

She brushed the damp hair from his forehead, replacing it with a kiss. “Really? I hadn't noticed.”

 

He looked up, seeing the amused glint, the love and affection in her eyes. He smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “You're a cheeky bitch, Granger,” he said, pulling her to him and stopping her reply with his mouth.

 

~~~

 

“He is so gorgeous,” Hermione whispered.

 

“Yeah, he's not bad, is he?” Blaise said with a grin down at the sleeping baby in her arms. “Got some teeth coming through, so nights are good fun.”

 

“Luckily, my darling husband is good with small pain relief charms, so he settles quickly,” Ginny said, setting the salad bowl on the table. She held up the bowls, and Hermione gave a small shake of her head. With a rueful smile, Ginny took one of the four bowls back into Theo's kitchen.

 

“How is he?” Blaise asked quietly.

 

Hermione sighed, blinking rapidly. “Up and down for the last few days. He's okay for the most part, I think. His wounds are healing well, but he suffers from terrible headaches a lot of the time. I think some of it is the side effects from all the potions.”

 

“I invited him over to ours the other day, just for a drink and a catch up.” Blaise gently touched Ginny's arm in thanks as she spooned a generous portion of the salad into a bowl and set it before him. “He didn't reply, so guessed he wasn't up for it. I miss him. Barely had a chance to see him since… you know.”

 

Hermione nodded, leaning slightly to bump her shoulder into his. “He told me he'd replied to you, but he's been… distant, even from me. Just the thought of other people being near him can make him withdraw.”

 

Ginny placed a hand over Hermione's and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He'll come around, eventually. It'll just take time.”

 

“I know, but it's hard. Moreso for him, I'm sure. I just want to hold him and make it alright again.”

 

Luca stirred then, yawning and opening his big dark eyes.

 

“Hi, little man,” cooed Hermione, “did you have a nice nap?”

 

He looked around blearily, confused about where he was. His chin began to tremble a little, his tiny hands clenching. Then he looked over to one side and saw Blaise. His mouth opened in a big grin; one small bump of white was visible near the centre of his top gum, another along the bottom.

 

“Look at them gnashers!” exclaimed Blaise in a silly voice. Hermione passed Luca to him as the baby reached up for his father. “Hey, little guy!”

 

The sound of baby babble filled the air as Blaise stood and walked with him for a bit, Luca pointing at things and Blaise telling him what they were. The beautiful family scene made Hermione's heart ache, and she wiped a small tear from her eye. She breathed deeply, trying to stop the tears before they got the better of her.

 

Ginny stood and came around to wrap her arms around her. “It'll be you guys soon. Give it time.”

 

Hermione gave a small breath of laughter, those traitorous tears spilling down her cheeks. “He doesn't want to sleep in the same bed anymore, Ginny.”

 

“Really? I thought he was finding you being here a comfort.”

 

“So did I. He finds it hard to have people close to him. Physically close. It makes him nervous. He had a lot of nightmares for the first few days, and I… Apparently I was in all of them.”

 

“He said that?” Blaise said, his dark eyes filled with concern.

 

Hermione shook her head. “Not in so many words. But he was always scared of me when he woke, trying to get away from me.” She bowed her head, letting her hair conceal her face. “I could hear him one night, begging for me to stay away. He was still asleep.”

 

She felt Ginny and Blaise exchange looks before her friend's arms tightened around her. “It's just a side effect, like you said,” she whispered. “He doesn't truly believe you would hurt him. He can't do!”

 

“Paranoia doesn't make sense, Ginny,” she muttered. “Something's happened to my Theo, and there's nothing I can do to help him. Every time I think I'm getting close to him again, he pulls away. I don't know what to do.”

 

“He'll come around, Hermione,” Blaise said. “I thought what happened during the War was going to break him, and for a long time he was down.” Blaise shook his head, ignoring the women’s curious looks. “Needless to say he’s bounced back from stuff before. He just needs time.”

 

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the tissue Ginny held out to her, wondering what ‘stuff’ Blaise was referring to. Blaise was concentrating on Luca though and the moment passed.

 

She felt like she had just got Theo back, only to start losing him all over again.

 

~~~

 

A Christmas Party.

 

There would be a lot of people there; friends, loved ones, people that were as close as family. A room full of love and laughter. All for him, he believed; thanks for having him home.

 

He didn’t think he could face it.

 

He  _ knew _ he couldn't face it if he was honest with himself. He could barely stand to have her near him when he was in one of these moods. These feelings of bleakness had become far too frequent now. There was no way he could cope with…

 

Theo gave a shudder, running a hand through his hair. His mouth twisted in distaste and he wiped his palm on the carpet.

 

“Theo, love,” she called through the door, “breakfast's ready.” There was a pause, and he could almost see her screw up her courage. “Mum and dad asked if you… if they could…”

 

“No,” he growled. “I said  _ no, _ and I bloody well meant it!”

 

_ Robert didn't really want another pureblood upsetting his girl, and who could blame him? Weasley was a shit at times. Oliver had upset her. _

 

_ “ _ Stop it, stop it, stop it!” he muttered, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. The pain was grounding, helped him to think, to centre himself. “Robert is a good man. Hermione is a good woman. Let her in. You're a fucking mess when she's not here with you. Look at you!”

 

“Theo?”

 

He could hear the tears in her voice. “I'm fine,” he snapped, then let out a heavy sigh. His hands lowered, and he gripped the duvet tightly. “I'm fine,” he said again, his voice softer. “I'm sorry, Mina… Truly, I am. I don't understand what's going on with me.”

 

“I'm here, Theo. I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this, I'm sure of it.”

 

He smiled then, standing and shuffling slowly towards the door.

 

“I remember those feelings. The pain, the ache. It sits in your bones, twitches over your nerves when you least expect it.”

 

Theo stopped, hand inches from the door handle. A tendon in his jaw jumped; he remembered what she had said about her pain.

 

“I was not an easy person to be around for… well, quite a while. Ron will tell you, I'm sure!” There was a slight lift in her voice, one of amusement.

 

He was sure it was amusing, now. His fist clenched. He waited though, he could feel it coming.

 

“It is hard, Theo.”

 

“How would you know what I feel?” That was unfair, he knew, but he couldn't help goading her into the trap, and he hated himself for it.

 

“I know the pain, Theo, I do. I felt that horrible curse. Bellatrix's knife against my throat. The... things she said she would do. What she would let others do to me…”

 

“It's not the same, Hermione. It could never be the same!” His voice was raised. Angry. Unreasonably so.  _ You are a shit, Theodore Nott. _

 

“Please, Theo, let me help you. I know what you went through. It wasn't as extended as yours, I know, and I'm not saying it was anywhere near as bad…”

 

_ If you keep this up, you will lose her. _ He shook his head to chase the voice of reason away. He was angry and wanted to vent; she was the only one he could hurt, the only one who could help. “It wasn't even close!”  _ And how will she help you if you push her away all the time? _

 

“Theo, please! This is something we share! We were both tortured, both held against our will. I can understand…”

 

He slammed his fist against the wood, the door shivering in its frame. He barely heard Hermione's scream of fright over the blood pounding in his ears. “You could  _ never _ understand! At least  _ you _ knew  _ why _ ! You knew what that crazy bitch wanted! I spent five months being tortured, and  _ I have no fucking clue why! _ ”

 

He spun away from the door and dropped onto the bed again. He covered his face with a pillow.  _ There. Are you fucking happy now? _

 

No, he wasn't happy. He knew she understood his pain, better than anyone. She might not truly grasp the scale of what he had been through, but she  _ had _ been tortured.

 

He hated himself for belittling what she had gone through. That wasn't how a real partner acted. A true boyfriend would be accepting her help, her love. Listening to her story and the common ground they shared.

 

He sat up, hearing the quiet jingle of a breakfast tray being placed gently outside his door. He reached the door in two strides and flung it open.

 

Hermione gave another scream and staggered away from him, back to the hallway wall opposite.

 

He drank in the sight of her. Her hair was wild and untamed, her eyes red-rimmed.

 

He stepped over the tray slowly, his eyes on hers, hands held out to her. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

 

She looked away for a moment, and his heart dipped towards his feet. Her eyes found his again though, and she smiled. It didn't remove the pain in those deep brown eyes, but it lightened her expression a little. “We say that a lot at the moment, don't we?”

 

“I know.” He stopped in front of her, hesitant to touch her without a clear sign she would welcome the contact. “I've been horrible over the last few days. Unreasonable.”

 

“Slightly smelly too,” she whispered, a grin chasing around her mouth.

 

He gave a grunt of laughter, resisting the urge to touch his hair again; he knew it was a mess and he should definitely wash today if only to feel a little more human. “Yeah, I'll give you that one.”

 

“But you can still hug me though, if you want to.”

 

He didn't have to be asked twice.

 

~~~

 

Scars.

 

Livid slashes across his chest and stomach. Pinker than the surrounding skin they stood out to his eyes. His finger traced the one that ran down his cheek, partially hidden by several days of stubble. 'An air of ruggedness’ the paper had declared it.

 

‘A constant reminder of pain and fear’ was how he thought of it.

 

He stared at it through the condensation that covered the mirror in the bathroom; he looked at all of them, the marks that decorated his naked body deeper than tattoos ever would. Water dripped from him, onto the tiled floor, and he felt again that pit pat of the water droplet that had kept him alive.

 

A chill chased through him despite the humidity of the room, and he snatched the towel from the rail and wrapped it around his waist. Taking a smaller one too he covered his face.

 

For a moment he could forget the pain, but all too soon the closeness of the damp material had the opposite effect; hot, clammy material wrapped around his head caused a jolt of fear.

 

He threw the towel away, leaning on the sink and breathing hard. His knuckles were pale as he gripped his father's wand, and focused on controlling his breathing.

 

~~~

 

Hermione was running around like a mad thing, getting the last minute preparations for the Christmas party sorted, as well as working on her surprise for Theo. 

 

Things had been so tense lately, more so as she had not stayed over as much this last week. She had been running around the Ministry arranging Portkeys, travel agents in the Muggle world to arrange accommodation on the remote and private island of Bonefish Cay.

 

Two weeks in the sun, with few people, and fewer worries; time for them to reconnect, and for Theo to not be looking over his shoulder the whole time or avoiding rooms in the house because of bad memories.

 

She was going to surprise him with the tickets after the Christmas party. She had reluctantly agreed to not celebrate Christmas at home or with others this year, other than the party which had already been planned. Theo had said he didn't want to celebrate.

 

She had wanted to argue but the few days leading up to that request had been filled with tension and anguish, so she decided to concede. She had told her parents they were going to have a quiet day, just the two of them. They were disappointed but understood. 

 

She wasn't so sure they understood entirely where their friendly jovial son in law had gone however. Everyone was struggling with the recluse that was now her boyfriend. She found glimpses of that bright, happy, and confident man every now and again, but they had become less and less frequent since he had left the hospital. 

 

She also couldn't work out whether she was the problem. He seemed to take one look at her these days, and a look would come across his face; it wasn't a look she liked. He would become angry, irrational, even moments after it crossed his face. If she didn't know better, she would have argued that he was possessed. She still wanted him to see a psychiatrist, but he wasn't having any of it. 

 

Blaise and Ginny had been helping her arrange all the catering and drinks for the party. Harry had badgered Pansy into offering up her home as a venue for the party; it was perfect as there was space for everyone but also room for Theo to get some space if he needed it, which he wouldn't get many other places. She was grateful as there was no way it would have worked at Theo’s house!

 

She glanced at her watch. It was eight thirty; another late one, and she still had another four people ahead of her in the queue to register for a Portkey. Did this Ministry ever close?! 

 

A frisson of fear sparked through her. She should let Theo know she was going to stay at her flat tonight. She wondered if this would bother him. Last night, when she had arrived back late, he had queried where she had been. On the spot she had given a pretty lame excuse to cover that she had been mainly working on his surprise; even to her own ears, it had sounded poor. Not even twenty minutes later he had headed upstairs to bed. The bedroom door shutting behind him was a clear message she shouldn't join him. 

 

She was sure he wouldn't miss her. 

 

~~~

 

Theo was pacing the living room floor. He didn't like it in here anymore. The carpet may have been replaced, but he still knew where the bastard had clocked him one. It was like he could still see the pool of blood on the carpet where he had lain and felt it pooling around him.

 

She had been gone this morning when he had come downstairs, and she was still not back, no message, nothing. 

 

Maybe she had stayed at her flat last night, rather than come back here. Merlin knew he was shit company. She had returned to his house late the other night with some poor excuse that Molly had had a fall and she went round to help as no one else was around.

 

Theo thought that to be very unlikely; she had seven children, for Merlin's sake! 

 

He had watched her as she told him that and her eyes had avoided his. He knew she was lying. Why though? Why did she think being deceitful would help them in any way? 

 

He knew he had been more than unreasonable of late, but he couldn't seem to shake off this paranoia that Hermione was involved. He had closed off even more from her and his friends. He didn't want to hear their pity, their false understanding of what he had been through. They had no idea. 

 

He also hated that he couldn't get past it and go back to being himself. He didn't recognise himself anymore. His scarred face stared back at him in the mirror, and he was appalled at his appearance. He couldn't bring himself to shave, after the first time the razor had glinted in the bathroom light. His stubble had moved to almost a full beard. He hadn't had his hair cut; the thought of putting himself in the hands of someone with scissors... His hair, usually kept short and stylish, was limp, messy and not far off reaching his shoulders. Who knew hair could grow so quick.

 

Despite all this, she hadn't moaned at him once. She was so considerate, and yet he still treated her like she was the issue here. It was amazing she hadn't walked out on him. He was sure he deserved it!

 

But now, as he waited for her, those feelings he hated started to swarm over him once more. Was she plotting how to get rid of him for good this time? Had she attacked someone else? 

 

As he listened to his own thoughts, he was sickened by them, but he couldn't stop them. It was now nearly eleven pm! Did she think he wouldn't be bothered? Angrily he took out his father's wand and with a quick incantation and a click, the locks changed on all the doors. Now she'd have to beg to be let in.

 

And in doing so, he'd demand to know where she had been.

 

~~~

 

The following morning, after a decent night's sleep, Hermione was back to Theo’s, laden with shopping for both the party and for the fridge.

 

She tried the door, it was still locked. Putting the bags down, she fished out the key. It wouldn't turn. 

 

She tried a few more times and then after checking the street for Muggles she went to Apparate in. There was a barrier, an Anti-Apparition charm and she was denied access. 

 

“What the hell?”

 

With only one option left to her, she knocked on the door. A few moments later it opened. Her dishevelled boyfriend stood before her, a grimace on his face. 

 

“Where have you been?” he grunted, his arms folded across his chest.

 

“Shopping,” she said, pointing down towards the bags.

 

“And last night?”

 

“I decided to stay at mine, as it was late by the time I finished my jobs. I’ve been sorting things out for the party.”

 

He stared at her as if he was working through this to decide whether he believed her or not.

 

“Why am I locked out?” she said quietly.

 

He stood silent for a moment, carefully picking his next words. “I'm going to keep changing them, you know? So it can't happen again.” He gave her something that might have been a smile. “Here let me help you.”

 

He pushed the door open wider and picked up some of the bags.

 

Hermione was unnerved. She was sure the locks had nothing to do with how he was feeling, safety wise. He had locked  _ her _ out, plain and simple.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 will post on Wednesday 26th September


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself, kids... this is a bumpy one ;)

The Christmas party weekend started better, for both of them.

 

They spent the afternoon on Saturday, sat on the sofa, watching some old Muggle movies. Theo sat and watched the protagonist on his quest to get to space, the lengths he went to circumvent the near-future society that saw him as inferior; a society that prized genetic perfection over natural procreation. Despite himself, Theo found he was frowning at the screen, invested in the movie and seeing something uncomfortable in it.

 

“I think a society that strives for perfection in its citizens isn’t  _ necessarily _ a bad thing,” Hermione mused abruptly as the credits rolled.

 

It was the first words they had spoken to each other in a while, the movie having drawn them in and settled them into companionable silence. Theo looked around at her, surprised, seeing her thoughtful expression. “Excuse me?”

 

“Well, think about it. If civilisation was able to weed out genetic imperfections, it would be inherently stronger!”

 

“Are you beset by one of Lovegood’s Wracksprites, Mina?”

 

“Wrack _ spurts _ ,” she corrected him absently. “Do you not agree then?”

 

“Viewing certain people, or traits, as invalid is the sort of thing we were hoping to stamp out! How different is it from the issue of muggleborns, purebloods, and squibs? The magical world thrives on elitism, a mad form of perfectionism, which is slowly driving it into the ground!”

 

She shrugged. “I hardly think it is the same, Theo. This is not blood we’re talking about here, which is a ridiculous thing to get uppity about. On that, we can agree. Surely being able to ensure health and physical perfection would elevate a society and make a utopia! Clearly there would be a need for it to be properly managed; I can see several mistakes the government made in the film, and I’m not a fan of how they stamped out individualism…”

 

“I cannot believe you are giving credence to a society of this dystopian nature, Hermione,” Theo growled. “Next you’ll be trying to say that Muggle madman, Hitler, had the right idea about Aryan superiority! It is unadulterated sophistry to say that the civilisation presented…”

 

“‘Sophistry’!?” Hermione almost screeched. “How is anything I have said false? And how  _ dare _ you use Hitler’s name and mine in the same breath!”  

 

His speech became stilted, formal, lecturing his girlfriend on all the wrongs committed by the society in the film. Her replies were informed, logical, and well reasoned, and in his mind, completely farcical! They sparred verbally, long after the credits had finished and only stopped when the player gave a funny little click, switched itself off, and an abrupt blast of static from the television startled them both.

 

Theo glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece, realising they had been arguing for a good couple of hours. As he turned back to answer Hermione’s last, frankly outrageous point, he caught an amused glint in her eye, the minute lift in the corner of her mouth. It was gone in a flash, her expression becoming neutral and closed once more.

 

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he said, trying to glare at her, fighting the smile that was reducing the severity of his expression.

 

“As did you,” she said coyly.

 

“I’ll admit, the distraction was refreshing. You argue very well.”

 

“Naturally. I have been known to be rather argumentative on occasion. Though, of course, I do not truly believe even half of what I said just now.”

 

Theo shook his head. “Well played, Miss Granger.”

 

She stood, stretching her tight muscles with an audible sigh. “Go get washed up, I’ll fix us some dinner if you’d like?” She paused then, blinking down at him, and cleared her throat. “I mean, if you want to eat with me tonight? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…”

 

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “We haven’t eaten together much over the last few days. Well, I haven’t eaten much at all, have I?”

 

“I  _ was _ debating whether trying to feed you while you were asleep was a viable option at one point,” she said with a grin.

 

“Sorry, I want to try harder…”

 

“You’ve been through a lot. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. As long as I know how you feel, that you’re willing to talk to me about it, we can cope with anything.”

 

“I will try. All the effort I made to get past my father's conditioning seems to have failed me. It's like I'm back at the beginning again.”

 

She gave his outstretched hand a squeeze. “Go on, have a shower. I'll have dinner ready in a jiffy.”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

He descended the stairs slowly a short while later, feeling better for it. It had been little more than a quick rinse as he had showered in the morning, but it had served its purpose. He moved through the hall, leaning on his cane, heading for the kitchen with only a small backwards glance at the front door. Stepping lightly onto the tiled floor he could hear Hermione's Muggle music box playing, saw the witch herself swaying to the music.

 

He recognised this tune, something about being in a jungle. It had a good beat, he could admit that, though he found the singer's voice grated a little at times.

 

He paused in the doorway, a smile on his face as he watched Hermione start screeching along to the song and shaking her hair in all directions. Grabbing a wooden spoon from the counter, she suddenly started pretending she was holding a guitar and mimed along with the solo.

 

“Do you know where you are?” she cried, lifting the spoon to her mouth as the song started to build back up again.

 

“Do you know where  _ you  _ are?” Theo called with a laugh, as Hermione screeched and spun around, the wooden spoon flying from her hand.

 

“Theo! You startled me,” she said, her face rapidly going bright red. She tapped a button on the Muggle box, and the music cut off abruptly, as Theo walked into the kitchen to retrieve the spoon. “I got lost for a moment there.”

 

“Well, it was a quick shower. And I'm glad, I might have missed the show.”

 

She pulled the wooden spoon from his hand, sticking her tongue out at him before waving him to a seat around the central island. With quick efficiency she floated the bowls of food over, setting them down in front of the place settings.

 

Theo looked suspiciously at the contents and poked it with a fork. “What's this?”

 

“Pasta bake,” she declared.

 

“Is there bread I can fill up on?” He grinned at her.

 

“Now who's being the cheeky bitch, hmm?” She swatted him gently on the arm. “It's a simple recipe, and I didn't have  _ you _ distracting me this time, so it will be delicious!”

 

Theo speared the pasta twists, scooping up a forkful of the vegetables, cheese, and sauce. He glanced at her, seeing her concentrating on her own meal.

 

_ Was there something… Stop it, right this second! Eat. The damn. Meal! _

 

Taking himself firmly in hand he ate first one mouthful, then another, and another.

 

“You like it?” she asked quietly, her expression soft.

 

Theo nodded. “It's really good, Mina. Where did you get the recipe? Is it one of your mum's, or Molly's?”

 

She flushed slightly and didn't meet his eyes. “It's one of Fred's recipes.”

 

His eyebrows rose. “Fred Weasley?”

 

“No, not that Fred.” She grimaced and waved her wand in the direction of the kitchen. A jar floated out of the bin and settled in front of them. “The man on the label is called Fred. He's sort of their mascot.”

 

“Ah, so you cheated,” he grinned.

 

She tilted her nose up and sniffed pointedly. “Accepting help when you need it is not cheating, Mister Nott! I think we are both aware of my shortcomings as a chef, so a little jar of Muggle cooking sauce seemed like the best plan of action.”

 

“Well, in that case, it's still delicious, and you assembled it beautifully.”

 

They continued to eat in silence for a moment, Hermione smiling happily at the compliment.

 

“You know,” Theo said after a moment, gesturing at the jar with his fork, “if that bowler hat of Fred's was a hideous green, he could be Cornelius Fudge's doppelganger.”

 

It was a poor joke, but Hermione sniggered anyway, the thought just catching her out. Unfortunately, she had a mouthful of pasta which nearly shot across the table. Theo stared for a moment at his girlfriend, pasta sauce dribbling down her chin, then burst into laughter.

 

Hermione washed up a little later, her heart feeling fuller than it had in days. Theo was at her side, seemingly lost in thought as he dried a glass. She glanced at him, wondering where those thoughts were taking him, worrying. Her happy mood began to evaporate as she saw the slight tightening around his eyes that had come to precede a turn in his mood.

 

She placed the last plate on the rack and turned to him, plucking the tea towel from his hands. He looked up with a slight jerk, his eyes widening a fraction. Swiftly she dried her hands and dropped the towel. Giving him no time to move away, she captured his face between her fingers, his lips with hers.

 

Her heart pounded as it had that first time he had finally kissed her. She imagined she felt her pupils dilate behind her eyelids with the surge of feeling rushing through her body. That sensation of heat, missing for so long within her, surprised her with its intensity.

 

She gave a small moan as she finally felt the slight shift in his stance and he kissed her back. Her arms slipped around his neck, hands linking together and pulling him closer to her. His tongue was like fire against hers, hungry, insistent. His hands found the hem of her skirt, lifting it up and bunching it around her thighs.

 

A bar stool bumped against her buttocks as he guided her towards the island, and she slid up onto it, lifting her legs to frame him as he pushed against her. With swift movements she pulled at the buckle on his belt, almost yanking it apart before attacking his fly. She shoved his trousers and boxers down eagerly, desperate for him.

 

There was a sudden release of pressure as his fingers slipped around her knickers, pushing them aside. Then it was flesh against flesh at last. She was hot, wet, gasping for breath.

 

His mouth never left hers, the passion that had swept over them burning still, but there was a change in the feeling. An edge to it.

 

He wasn't within her yet.

 

He was right there, so close, but still he had not filled her.

 

His hands dipped to her breasts, plucking at her nipples through her blouse, eliciting more moans. Her sighs shivered through her body, trembling with the intensity, but still he didn't complete her.

 

Their kisses had faltered now. Their rhythm knocked off kilter by this pause.

 

She looked up at him, seeing his eyes open, downturned and angry.

 

Her shiver had nothing to do with lust then. She lowered her hands, wanting to help him, to feel him in her hand if nothing else.

 

He wasn't ready yet, flaccid still in her hand. She stroked along his length, squeezing gently, but was startled when he slapped her hand away.

 

“I'm okay!” he grated, still not looking at her.

 

Swallowing her reply she focused on his neck, nipping and kissing along his jaw, knowing it worked to turn him on in the past. The sensitive spot just below his ear never failed to cause a reaction.

 

It caused one now, just not the expected one.

 

“Enough, Hermione!” Theo snapped, turning away from her to lean against the opposite counter. His hand worked himself vigorously while he muttered under his breath.

 

She slipped off the chair, hesitantly touching his back. He shrugged her off with a growl.

 

Her lip trembled slightly, her hands flexing. “Turn around, Theo. Let me help…”

 

She had started to lower herself down to her knees, but he spun around with a snarl, yanking her back up. “No! I can do this! Just sit there… please… Just… give me a minute.”

 

His face was flushed, eyes still not meeting hers, and her heart ached. “Theo, it's okay… it's the first time since… Really, it's okay…”

 

“It's not fucking working, Hermione!” he yelled, sweeping his arm across the counter and spilling neatly stacked plates onto the floor with a crash. “How is that ‘okay’? Huh?”

 

“Theo, please,” she whispered, reaching out for him. She recoiled as he slapped her hand away, clutching the stinging limb to her chest in shock.

 

“This is ridiculous,” he declared, yanking his pants and trousers back up. “I don't know what the hell you were thinking!”

 

“No, Theo…”

 

He didn't answer, didn't look at her as he limped out of the room, leaving his cane behind. She listened to him stomp upstairs, the bedroom door slamming so hard it shivered the whole house.

 

Quietly she tidied up the broken plates by hand, spilling the shattered pieces into the bin. She wiped her face, sniffing and hiccoughing quietly.

 

Slowly she made her way to the staircase, beset by doubts; was it her, his trauma? What if he no longer wanted her that way? Had his torture damaged something within him that would prevent them from being able to have sex? Was it simply a loss of desire for her after everything he had suffered? In her heart she knew that wasn't the case; his earlier passion had been easy to feel. It was still there, but something was blocking him from consummating that desire.

 

She reached the bottom of the stairs and found a barrier, magical energy sparking across her skin as she tried to take the first step.

 

Her heart clenched, her tears falling heavier now. With a cry she turned from the stairs and fled to the lounge, burying her face in the sofa cushions.

 

She lay there and cried herself to sleep.

 

~~~

 

He threw his father's wand aside as soon as the door slammed, the tingle of the warding spell still racing through him. His chest heaved, hands clenched against his closed eyes and pressing hard. The pain from the pressure wasn’t helping. He still felt like the room was spiralling.

 

He was broken. He was a mess inside, a hideous monster on the outside. His scars made him undesirable.

 

She hadn't seen his torso yet, certainly not his legs. Not since St Mungo's. What would she think of the mess that bastard had done to him?

 

And what about what Theo had done to her? He had caused the death of their child. How could he ever think he had the right to touch her after that. Every time together would remind her of it, every touch bring that thought to mind. It never left his thoughts after all.

 

He felt like two different people. He was Theo, the man who loved Hermione more than anything. The man who wanted to be a father to their children, to get married. He was also Theo, a scarred, paranoid idiot who felt like everyone was out to get him.

 

No wonder he couldn't get it up anymore.

 

He lay down on top of the duvet, his knees curled up to his chest. He didn't sleep, just stared at the wall.

~~~

 

The weather the following morning matched the moods of both the inhabitants of the house. Hermione was sore, her night on the sofa had aggravated her back. She stood in the kitchen with a cup of tea staring out past the rain-spattered window, still in her clothes from the night before. She had felt the wards come down sometime in the night but hadn't felt the urge to wander up the stairs yet. If she was honest, she was scared of the Theo she might find.

 

Sullen and withdrawn or angry and spiky. The Theo she briefly won back last night would be long gone again. 

 

Typically today was the Christmas party. Tension before it started did not bode well. 

 

Suddenly she heard his faltering footsteps on the stairs.

 

She held her breath as he entered the room, he moved silently behind her and collecting his cane before grabbing a mug and heading for the teapot. 

 

She turned to face him, and her heart nearly broke for what felt like the millionth time this year.

 

Black circles edged his dull eyes. Gone were their brightness, his cheeky glint had long since disappeared. 

 

“I'm sorry.” His gruff apology broke the silence.

 

“It's…”

 

“It's not okay.” He started to leave the room with his tea. 

 

“Theo… today is the party. It might be good for you? I mean I'd like it if you came. I know Blaise wants to see you… Draco will be there, and Marcus.” 

 

For a moment she was sure he was going to argue or erupt with anger. 

 

“What time?” Was his response.

 

“Seven.”

 

“I'll be ready.” With that, he walked back up the stairs, and she heard the bedroom door slam shut. 

 

She took that as her cue to head back to her flat, shower there and find some clothes to wear.

 

~~~

 

The rain had stopped that afternoon and had turned into snow. Christmas was finally here.

 

Hermione smiled as she watched her friends and family fill the hall; Parkinson Manor looked stunning! Guests were being transported from the large gates to the front door by horse-drawn carriage. The black horse, hitched to the front of each carriage, was elegant and finely groomed, glitter sparkling from their hooves with each step.

 

Large snow covered holly wreaths decorated every wall you could see. Opulently decorated trees in reds, golds, silver, and greens respectively stood in front of the large doorways that led out to the expansive gardens. Floating candles with shimmering gold dust falling from them finished the effect.

 

George was stood in the doorway in the great hall, under some mistletoe, lying in wait for any poor woman who stumbled across his path. His wife watched him from the other side of the room, her sides splitting with laughter as he reluctantly pecked his lips against Madam Hooch’s cheek before he himself ran away.

 

Hermione smiled and nodded at Adrian, who was a few meters away from her, locked in conversation with Harry. She hadn't seen much of the Auror these last couple of weeks. She realised guiltily that she had missed his company a little.

 

She wandered amongst the guests, her eyes darting every so often to where Theo was. He looked to be engrossed in conversation with Draco. It felt good to see him out and chatting with others. Satisfied that he was doing okay, she went in search of Ginny.

 

“Those scars of 'is are ‘ealing nicely,” John Dawlish said as she passed, and she smiled sadly.

 

“He doesn't seem to see it that way, unfortunately.”

 

“Ah, 'e’ll get used to 'em. I felt the same way when I got me first few. Thought my 'andsome face was ruined for good, and the ladies would never go for me.”

 

“No, it was your grating personality that did that, Johnathan,” said a familiar voice, and Hermione turned to smile at Healer Dawlish.

 

“Glad you could come, Marybelle.”

 

“Well, my son needs to be watched in social settings to make sure he doesn't embarrass the family name!”

 

“I'm fifty-four, and a fully trained Auror, mother,” Dawlish muttered, rolling his eyes.

 

“And yet your personality always manages to rub people up the wrong way,” Marybelle said with a glare. “Anyway, John is right. The visible scars look much better. What about the others, dear? Are they looking okay too?”

 

Hermione glanced at Theo. “I honestly don't know. He… he hasn't let me see them. I think there's a part of him that's embarrassed.”

 

Marybelle nodded and patted her on the shoulder. “He'll get there, I'm sure. Give him time.”

 

Hermione smiled and excused herself to continue on her way to talk to Ginny. She hoped that Marybelle was right. It may have been that which had caused Theo's difficulty the other night; he could see every scar, feel them, thought they made him ugly. She had to show him that they didn't repulse her, make him understand that she still loved him, scars and all.

 

~~~

 

Theo stood listening to Draco prattle on about how on earth Pansy and Potter were still pretending this wasn't a serious relationship, and wishing Pansy would stop messing around with Potter and remember her blood status versus his. 

 

Inside Theo seethed with annoyance, hearing Draco disparage someone who was dating a half-blood; the implied insult to Hermione’s blood was the undertone he heard. He mumbled something in the right places to make Draco think he was listening whilst in fact, his attention was elsewhere. He was hypersensitive to many things around him. He knew where Hermione was in the room at all times, and he was also listening to conversations around him. 

 

If his time in captivity had taught him anything, it was that his senses were so important and they had massively improved. He could pick out keywords from about five conversations happening around him.

 

So, when he heard Adrian mention Hermione's name to a woman he recognised as a journalist from Witch Weekly, his attention moved to eavesdrop immediately. 

 

“...It was a difficult few months for her, naturally, and as a consequence, we got closer.”

 

“When did you know about miscarriage?”

 

“Well, I’m almost certain I was there when it started happening. It was awful and so heartbreaking for her. I did my best to be around, but you know, at the same time she was grieving all over again. That's a very personal time where largely you want to be alone, or with your loved one. Obviously, in this case, he wasn't around to support her, but I stepped in where I could. I know that was a real comfort to her, and yeah we're great friends now. And who knows, maybe…”

 

They had moved away, and Theo could no longer hear anymore, or follow without it being obvious. Inside he was furious; how dare Pucey talk about their private lives like that, and to a journalist of all people! Why was a journalist even here? And what had he been about to say? Maybe him and Hermione would turn into something more? Laughable. 

 

He saw Hermione making her way over to him and tried to calm it down. He didn't want to upset or scare her again after last night. Rightly or wrongly she was throwing this party for him.

 

“Are you okay, my love,” she asked quietly, as her hand ghosted his back.

 

“Not bad, not bad.” He realised Draco had disappeared while he'd been eavesdropping. He'd be in trouble later for ignoring him no doubt. They stood side by side, watching the room. “Is Roberts here working?” he asked to make conversation and try to stop himself from dwelling on Pucey’s words.

 

“Darryl? No, he's not, but I think he struggles with social situations when surrounded by half the department.”

 

“Darryl? How do you know his first name?” He'd spent ages with the Auror stationed outside his door, chatting with him in his room, and the man had not once offered up anything personal like that.

 

“Well, he came across my parents earlier, and when they introduced themselves my dad told him he couldn't be Roberts tonight as it was too confusing! Robert, Roberts. Someone shouting the name would probably get both of them responding. So, he had to share his actual name.”

 

“Oh, right,” he said gruffly. He didn't miss the weird look Hermione gave him. “I think I might go and get some air.”

 

“Would you like me to come with you? A little moonlit walk in the gardens?” She leant close to whisper in his ear. “Maybe we could get lost for a few minutes and, um… have a little private time?” She grinned at him and winked.

 

His smile was tired and distant. “No. I'll be okay, thanks.”

 

He took his leave with a perfunctory peck on the cheek and wandered quickly away from the crowd, ending up alone on one of the terraces.

 

~~~

 

Hermione watched him leave with a heavy heart. Moments later her favourite blond skirted around the room to follow him. He gave a furtive look around before slipping out.

 

Hermione glanced around and noticed she wasn't the only person whose eyes followed Malfoy. She met Adrian and Roberts’ gaze respectively, the latter simply nodding before casually heading for the door Draco had left by. Adrian started to make his way over to her.

 

~~~

 

Theo stood out in the cold evening air, leaning on the marble wall that surrounded the large raised patio, and stared out over the extensive garden at the rear of Parkinson Manor; Algie, the Parkinson’s elf, did a damn fine job of keeping the beds in order. He knew that Pansy was closely involved in the planning and cultivation of the many flowers, shrubs and trees. He glanced over to the right of the patio, where a small wooden shed with a glass roof stood: Pansy’s secret kingdom.

 

The smallest of smiles lifted his lips as he remembered Draco daring him to try and sneak into that shed when they were fourteen. Pansy had been furious to find him rattling the door and attempting an unlocking charm. She had chased both he and Malfoy through the gardens for an hour, hexing them both. Neither of them had been able to sit down for a week afterwards.  _ No one _ saw the inside of that shed, except Pansy.

 

The snow had stopped a short while ago, the rain earlier in the day preventing it from settling for the most part. The chill air seemed to bounce off of Theo. How could you be affected by the cold when that seemed to be all you felt?

 

Pucey’s words had angered him, but his talk of the miscarriage had awoken the pain that he kept trying to shove away, and lock in a box that he kept in the back of his mind. It seemed to be the one thing he and Hermione silently agreed on: they didn't discuss it. It probably wasn’t healthy.

 

Their child, gone. His child, stolen from him before he even knew it had existed. Or did it just give up on him? He couldn’t blame it; he spent the whole time that Hermione was pregnant wishing he was dead. His hands were clenched, and he could feel his nails digging into his palms.

 

“Sweet Merlin, Theo, have you not heard of a warming charm? It’s freezing out here!” His best friend’s voice broke him from his dark musings. “Here…”

 

A bubble of warmth encompassed them with a wave of his wand.

 

“What are you doing out here?” Draco smirked. “Not enjoying the festivities in your honour.”

 

“You mean listening to Pucey talk to a reporter about his made up relationship with Hermione since the miscarriage. For other people to be discussing our child in such a way when I can't even talk to Hermione about it…”

 

He didn't know why he had opened up to Draco, the startled look on his friend’s face suggested he was just as shocked as he was.

 

“Sorry, ignore me. I'm having a moment of self-pity. I alternate between that and pure rage. Wait ten minutes, and you'll see the switch.” He tried to laugh it off, but it was a poor attempt.

 

“Look, Theo…” Draco started, awkwardly. “I can't begin to know how you feel about any of this, but you know I'm here for you. Although, it tends to help if you let people in to see you, or take us up on one of those invites to hang out.”

 

“We aren’t known for our open, honest talking now are we, Draco? I can’t even talk to the woman I love about any of this.”

 

“Maybe, just maybe this is a higher power telling you that you two weren't meant to be? Surely it shouldn't be this difficult? Maybe let Pucey have his chance...”

 

Theo spun round to glare, his face filled with anger, but before he could release it, their privacy was invaded by Blaise and Marcus.

 

“Boys! Come inside, it's freezing out here! Pansy just started a game of Never Have I Ever.”

 

“She bloody loves that game,” laughed Marcus, rolling his eyes, “but it's usually funny.”

 

Theo looked from the grins on Blaise and Marcus' faces, to the concerned look on Draco’s, and made a snap decision.

 

“Sure, lets head in.” He pushed past Draco and followed his friends in, Draco a step or two behind him.

 

~~~

 

Her eyes flew to the door as soon as Blaise, Draco, Marcus and Theo re-entered the ballroom. She could see Theo’s eyes darting around constantly, and while Marcus and Blaise went straight over to Pansy and the others, getting ready to play Pansy's drinking game, Theo hung back. Draco said something but Theo shook his head, and after a moment and a grimace, Draco moved away.

 

It pained Hermione to see him looking so uncomfortable in a room filled with people who loved him. She couldn't fully understand where this misplaced mistrust of his own family and friends had come from. She wished he would talk to her and explain it. It would help them both.

 

Ginny stood behind the small group, just watching and listening, her hands attached to the pram she was rocking back and forth, little Luca tucked up inside. A sharp pain filled Hermione, and before she could focus on it, she headed over to Theo.

 

She had gotten very good at locking that pain down.

 

“Hey”, she said softly as she sat down in the empty chair beside him. She reached out for his hand and was pleased that he didn't pull it away.

 

“What the hell? These two are still playing with each other?” 

 

Hermione followed his gaze and watched as Harry took Pansy into his arms and kissed her.

 

“I know, hard to believe, right? I think we're all still waiting for them to realise that it's definitely turned into something. They both still deny it.”

 

They watched the couple in silence, Pansy’s hand had trailed down Harry's back and skirted his groin. They laughed as Harry pushed her away, adjusting his trousers and looking around nervously whilst Pansy stood there laughing at him.

 

She felt Theo tense next to her, and his hand pulled away from hers. “I think it's nice though, to have something to celebrate at Christmas, don't you think?” she said.

 

“What Potter getting his end away?” he growled. “Or do you just mean that at least  _ someone _ is getting some?” 

 

“What?! No, that isn't… I mean, that's not…” She lowered her voice for him only. “Theo, last night… it wasn't what I meant at all. I'm just glad you're home for Christmas so we can spend it together! We missed your birthday after all, and I have a surprise for you back at the house…”

 

But she didn't get a chance to tell him about the surprise, that she planned to give him the best Christmas ever.

 

Theo’s dam of pent-up rage, emotion, and fear chose that moment to break.

 

“OH, I'M SO FUCKING SORRY I CAUSED YOU AN INCONVENIENCE BY GETTING KIDNAPPED! I FORGOT THAT I NEEDED TO CONSULT WITH YOU ON THAT BEFOREHAND!”

 

Hermione sat there in shock, her mouth open, forgetting to breathe, as the man she loved leapt to his feet and tore into her. His face was red with rage, his eyes wild, hands tearing at his hair. Spittle flew from him as he shouted at the staring guests, everyone stunned into sudden silence.

 

“I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAVING A SWELL FUCKING TIME! I'M SURE YOU WERE HAPPIER WHEN I WASN'T HERE! MERLIN, EVEN MY OWN  _ CHILD _ DECIDED I WASN'T WORTH STICKING AROUND FOR.”

 

Hermione gasped, staggering to her feet; it was like he had stabbed her. Her legs gave out from underneath her, and she felt herself caught. Strong arms wrapped around her, held her as silent sobs wracked her.  _ How could he think that? _

 

Blaise took hold of Theo’s arm, his face hard, herding his friend towards the exit. “Maybe it's time to head home, mate, yeah?”

 

When Theo's eyes flicked over Hermione's shoulder and tightened, she realised it was Adrian holding her. He was holding her close, speaking to her, but nothing was registering. Part of her wanted to push away from him, seeing the damage Adrian's closeness was doing to Theo. The other part saw the man who was breaking her heart on an almost daily basis, and wondered, seriously, just how much more of this she could take; how long before he self-destructed, and irrevocably destroyed everything they had between them.  _ Or is that what I’m seeing now? _

 

She caught a flash of blond, as Draco marched past her.

 

He sneered at her. “I knew you wouldn't work with her, Theo. How could you ever be happy, with someone so inferior.”

 

Hermione saw the flash of realisation light up Theo's eyes as they met hers. No one could have foreseen what came next, least of all Draco.

 

The blond fell to the floor, taken by complete surprise as Theo swung for him, his fist making a dull smack against Draco's cheek. Theo shrugged off Blaise and stalked towards the front door. 

 

Draco accepted Blaise’s hand and let himself be hauled onto his feet. He cast a scathing glance at Hermione before Disapparating.

 

“Theo will come round, Hermione.” Adrian's voice broke through her scattered thoughts.

 

“I'm not so sure, Adrian,” she sniffed quietly. “Nothing I do gets through to him. I'm walking on eggshells.”

 

“Should it be this hard though?” he said quietly.

 

Her attention was focused on Theo as he strode away, so she saw a tall woman with waist length, raven hair detach herself from a group near the door and intercept him. Hermione didn't recognise her, didn't know when she had arrived either. Her long, scarlet dress sparkled and flowed around her as she moved, every motion filled with elegance and grace. The cut of the garment bordered on scandalous; low cut and allowing her ample cleavage to be shown, backless to reveal a lack of any bra, a long slit on one side that almost reached her hip. She was a woman who knew she was beautiful and flaunted it for everyone to see. She was almost certainly naked beneath the dress, Hermione realised.

 

Theo physically recoiled from her as she touched his arm. They exchanged quiet words, his through gritted teeth, but no matter the body language, the woman laughed. Theo attempted to go around her, but she almost seemed to sway, placing herself between Theo and the door again. Her sudden movement took Theo by surprise, and he collided with her, she threw her arms around his neck as if he had intended the motion!

 

Hermione felt herself growl, starting forward to intervene, to hit her for touching her man! Something, anything! She was held back, Adrian’s arm around her insistent.

 

At that moment Theo pushed his way free, none too delicately. The woman spun with a laugh, flicking her perfectly straight hair over her shoulder and snagging a glass of wine from a nearby tray. “Offer is still open, Theo!” she called, turning to glance at Hermione, a familiar smirk on her lips as she walked away.

 

Hermione spun to look over at Pansy, seeing an identical smile on her face.  _ Laila, Pansy’s cousin _ , she realised.  _ The slim, beautiful, effortlessly elegant woman is Laila… Theo’s first love, who he hadn’t told her about... Why the hell is she here? _

 

Pansy glanced over at Hermione, a slight sneer on her face as she took a sip of her wine. The look vanished as Harry walked past her, his face like thunder as he headed for Hermione’s side. Whatever he said out of the corner of his mouth changed Pansy’s look to one of shock and distress, swiftly hidden. Hermione could see the hurt in her eyes though.

 

“Shall we tidy up here and send everyone home?” Adrian asked her, his hand on her back for comfort.

 

“I think that's a good idea,” she muttered.

 

“Hermione, I am so sorry about that,” Harry said as he arrived, “I have no idea what Pansy was thinking inviting  _ her _ , of all people, to something for Theo.”

 

“It’s fine, Harry,” she said tiredly. “The evening was finished before that point.”

 

“Just something else for you to have to deal with though, isn’t it?” Adrian said smoothly, ignoring Harry’s glare. “It was very unfair on you.”

 

The piercing cry of a baby broke through the mutterings of the crowd, and she could see her mother hurrying towards her, a look of horror on her face, her father a step behind, his awash with anger. Hermione took a deep breath. It wasn’t remotely calming.   
  
“Well, aren’t you a strong one?” Laila said, a lecherous gleam in her eye, as Roberts marched her back towards the exit, close enough for Hermione to hear. “Wouldn’t you like to use those big, muscled arms on me in private, you beautiful, chocolate man?”   
  
Roberts simply gave a snort of laughter. “Honey, you don’t have the right equipment for the job I need doing.”

 

Laila’s offended expression was most satisfying. Hermione looked around at the scene as people alternately stood around, wondering what to do, or said their goodbyes and left. Some looked as shell-shocked as she felt.

 

_ What a disaster. _

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 will post on Saturday 29th September


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 6

Once he had escaped the claustrophobic feeling ballroom, he had angrily Apparated back to his house and spent the next ten minutes storming around the house, searching for this ‘surprise’ she had mentioned. 

 

Drawers were forced open, and the contents flung unceremoniously onto the floor. He had ransacked the downstairs before starting on the bedroom. 

 

First, he searched her wardrobe, her clothes sailing past the window towards the bed, he didn't even flinch when a ripping sound pierced the air as garment and hanger tangled together bit the dust.

 

Unperturbed at his lack of success, he moved onto her underwear drawer. The drawer was wrenched open, and he pulled knickers and bras out. He ignored any memory that came attached with any item, blinded with his mission to find out what she had been talking about. 

 

Surprises made him feel uncomfortable, how could she not realise this? Also, how much underwear did this woman have? It bordered on obscene. 

 

Finally, he could see the bottom of the drawer and there what appeared to be a brown leather book. It was obvious this was it; it had a large green bow attached to it and a gift tag that said ‘Theo’.

 

Shaking, he picked it up and ripped the carefully tied ribbon away. 

 

Opening it, he realised it was a document holder. In it sat a Portkey pass ticket, a set of plane tickets, and a picture.

 

The picture showed glorious white sands and a brilliant turquoise sea. 

 

A holiday. She had arranged a holiday for them. He scanned the documents for more information and realisation dawned on him.

 

This was the holiday of dreams they had spoken of. Their own private island in the Caribbean, two weeks, just the two of them. He placed the messed up holder down and picked up the tag.

 

It was inscribed with a note in her scrawly writing he loved so much.

 

‘ _ Theo,  _

 

_ I may not be able to wipe the last year from your memory, but maybe we can go and get lost together, and make our own memories for the New Year, just as we said we would one day. _

 

_ All my love, _

 

_ Mina xxx _

 

He sighed and placed his head in his hands. What had he done?

 

He remembered the evening they had planned this trip.

 

The wind outside was howling, and he lay in bed snuggled into the woman he wanted to snuggle forever. She lay perfectly against him, like a jigsaw piece. It was if Merlin himself had fashioned them to be together.

 

He told her as much, interrupting her from the book she was reading.

 

She laughed at his corniness.

 

“Theodore Nott, you are the king of corny."

 

“I'll take that as a compliment. I can't believe this wind and rain is still going on. Four days straight it's been blowing a hooley! Although I'm not sure there is anywhere I'd rather be than here with you.”

 

“Well, I can think of better places to be.”

 

“Oh yeah?” he laughed, digging his fingers into her ribs and making her squeal.

 

“With you!” she screamed, struggling to fight him off, cackling.

 

“Where would you rather be, then?”

 

“Bonefish Cay. It’s a private island in the Caribbean; white sands, lush blue sea which is bath water warm, fresh seafood, and rum cocktails. Surrounded by nothing and no one. Just me and you.”

 

He pretended to consider this for a moment. “Okay… that might be better. Would you be naked?”

 

“Love, it's a private island... of course.”

 

She pulled away from him as he started to laugh.

 

“What? What's so funny about that?”

 

“I’m just thinking about all the places sand can get into… ouch!”

 

“Oh, shut up and kiss me you buffoon. We're going one day!”

 

And kiss her he had.

 

He looked around him now at the mess he had created and started to pick the clothing up, his guts twisted with shame. Just as he was about to throw the underwear back in, something metal caught his eye. 

 

A large, old, ornate key.

 

He paused for a moment and felt the blood drain from his face.

 

He remembered a key scraping in a lock every day during his capture. Vividly.

 

Why did  _ she _ have this key? The fact that every day a wizard had let himself in, in a very Muggle way, had always cast suspicion in his mind. The whole case against Stan was in disarray, thanks to Theo's revelation about the magic used, and the hunt was on for accomplices. Was his real captor a Muggle, muggleborn, or just clever? Or a combination?

 

Hand shaking, he grasped the offending item. It was old and well worn, the metal smooth. 

 

He could feel the rage returning, all his old wounds seemed to sear with pain as all the memories came flooding back; they were never too far from the surface. His mind was overrun with darkness, flashes of colour, the memory of pain so vivid he could almost feel the sharpness of the knife that pierced his flesh with ease. 

 

He stood, glancing down at his torso and could see blood pouring from his wounds, covering the floor and all the items strewn around the floor. His wrists were bound, heavy ropes cutting into his skin. The damp, foul scent of the hessian bag invaded his nostrils. 

 

His gaze found the mirror, and a shadowy figure prowled in the space behind him.

 

Anyone looking on would have seen a young man, struck down in a panicked horror; there was no blood, no knife, no one. Just him stood stock still, holding an old metal key, staring into the mirror.

 

Suddenly the silence was broken, and with an inhuman roar, he launched the key towards the mirror which shattered upon impact.

 

He spun around, seeing nothing behind him. Nothing. No one stood there. 

 

No one would be able to take him unawares ever again. It was time to lock himself away from everyone. He and Hermione, they were done; over. He couldn't trust her. Couldn't trust anyone.

 

His anger proved useful. Within moments the locks across the house were changed again, new wards placed around the entire house, and the Floo disconnected from the network and locked down. No one was getting in unless they had some serious magical clout behind them.

 

The blinds and curtains across his large house all closed moments later, and darkness enclosed the once bright and spacious rooms. 

 

Only when he knew he was finished, and his anger subsided, did the barely recognisable young man--who once had so much zest and love for life--break down. 

 

Anyone listening would have thought he was being tortured again, such was the sound that escaped him.

 

~~~

 

Hermione sat on the steps outside Theo’s house. He knew she was sat out there; she had made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t going away. She had returned the previous night to find herself unable to enter the house via any means. 

 

Her boyfriend had changed the wards, the locks and blocked the Floo. Banging on the door had had no response, she had even taken to appealing to him through the letterbox. Short of attempting Apparition through his wards and splinching herself, she had taken to sitting on the steps. Five hours and a numb arse later she still wasn’t sure how to get through to him. She had expected him to have let her in by now. Even if he didn't want her to stay. 

 

Her heated bubble charm was beginning to wear off, and the cold December air was starting to settle into her bones. She had called in sick to the office today as a consequence of all this. Her boss was going to seriously begin questioning her work ethic, there were already comments floating around the Ministry. Who would have expected this of Hermione Granger? Had she ever really been pregnant? Hurtful as it was, with the year she was having, the comments were like water off a duck's back. Far more hurtful were the words Theo had screamed at her during the party the previous night. 

 

The fact that he felt his child had abandoned him as well was devastating. Those words, in particular, she was having difficulty coming to terms with. The familiar knotted ball of anxiety that had sat in her stomach for most of the year was back with a vengeance. She had suggested to Theo he should see a counselor, now maybe she should heed her own advice. This mess was tipping her towards breaking point.

 

“Hey, you.”

 

The voice broke her out of her reverie. She looked up. It was Blaise, and whilst she was happy to see him, she had needed him to be Theo. She realised he wasn’t alone.

 

“Hi, Blaise, Adrian.” She nodded at them. She didn’t think she could move if she wanted to. She was pretty sure her body had seized up.

 

“Hermione, how long have you been sat here?” Blaise asked, taking a seat beside her. “Please don’t tell me it's since last night?” Adrian remained stood in front of the pair, looking concerned.

 

“No, no, Adrian dropped me home last night, and then I tried to Floo through. I couldn’t get in. I decided it was best to leave him to sleep it off. I got her about eight this morning but no luck. He won't let me in, or even let me know he’s in there.”

 

“Hermione, it's five o’clock in the evening. You’ve been sat here since this morning?!”

 

“Is it?” She looked around with clearer eyes, realising it was getting dark and the street lights were already on. “Looks like I lost track of time.”

 

She wasn’t totally oblivious to the look that the two men shared quickly with each other. She saw the stark look of worry and concern cross both faces. 

 

“I think you should let Adrian take you home, Hermione. I’ve helped Theo through something... kind of like this before. I’ll try and get through to the idiot inside.”

 

“Don’t call him that, Blaise. He’s not dealing with it, it's like whoever took him still has him. The only thing we have been given back is a shell. Even the few glimpses of my Theo seem to be becoming less and less obvious. I think... I think we’ve lost…” Her words subsided into tears.

 

The two men sprang into action, Blaise helping her up and holding her before shifting her into Adrian's warm arms.

 

“We will sort this out,” he said into her hair, cradling her as she cried. Her tears were making quite the mess of his Auror coat. “Come on, let me take you home. I'm sure Blaise can get through to him.” With a nod to Blaise, Adrian Apparated them away, back to her apartment.

 

~~~

 

Theo watched the exchange, blood boiling. He turned away from the window, eyes clenched tight, breath hissing through his teeth.

 

_ Who the hell did Pucey think he was? And since when did he and Blaise get on? So this was the way she wants it to be? She expects me to roll over and let her in, just because she sits on my fucking doorstep for a few hours? I should have confronted her about the key… but then allowing her in would have enabled her to attack me. No, I'm safe here, behind my wards. From her, from everyone. She wasn’t serious, anyway. One word from Adrian ‘White Knight’ Pucey and she allows him to whisk her off to Merlin only knows where!  _

 

The doorbell jarred him from his spiralling thoughts.

 

“Theo! Come on, old friend, let me in.”

 

_ Blaise. What's his part in all this? What was he up to while I was captive? Never got the impression it could have been him… but why not? It could have been any of them… _

 

“I know you're hurting, Theo. I just want to talk… Hold on.”

 

There was a strange buzzing noise in his ears, like everything was closing around him. It faded quickly, but there was a strange half echo now like he was enclosed in some sort of bubble.

 

“ _ Muffliato _ charm… nothing to be alarmed about. Ginny taught it to me. Didn't fancy anyone else hearing our conversation. There's a few Muggles about.”

 

_ Good excuse to avoid people hearing when he attacks me, more like… _

 

Despite himself, Theo stepped out into the hallway, eyeing the door cautiously. He could see Blaise peering in at the top of the door, the frosted glass obscuring him slightly, but obviously managed to make out Theo in the gloom of the hallway. Or a lucky guess…

 

“Come on, Nott, I can see you there. I know you can hear me. I can also sense enough curses and hexes on this door to take down a Graphorn!”

 

“I'm protecting myself,” Theo said, his voice sounding hoarse and rough.

 

“From what, mate?” Blaise had lowered his voice now, forcing Theo to step a bit closer to hear him.

 

“You. Her. Pucey, Malfoy, Potter… everyone that wants to hurt me!”

 

“Theo… no one wants to hurt you, my friend. None of us want to see you in pain. We're all worried about you, want to see you get better.”

 

“Yeah, right!”

 

“Look, Pucey's a pezzo di merda, we can agree on that! And, yeah, he's a stronzo for going after Hermione the way he has. But what's the girl to do, right? You think she's going to hang around, waiting for you to snap out of it when you keep shoving her away? How long do you want her to hang on? A month? A year? Five?”

 

“Fuck off, Zabini. You're as bad as Pucey!”

 

Blaise gave a snort of laughter. “I was one of the ones that wanted you guys together in the first place! I listened to your occasional ramblings. Hermione did this. Hermione said that. The way she suggested the other. You thought you were smooth and kept it under wraps, but Malfoy, Ginny, me? We saw it a mile off! Why do you think we made you Best Man, and her Maid of Honour?”

 

“What?”

 

“It was supposed to be Ginny and I planning the wedding, from top to bottom, occasionally asking for advice. That was our plan. The pair of us saw what could be and decided to give you a push. There wasn't supposed to be a Best Man or a Chief Bridesmaid! Three bridesmaids: Hermione, Luna, and Fleur. Three groomsmen: you, Malfoy, and Flint. Making you two step up meant you had to work together, spend more time in each others’ company.”

 

“You… planned it?”

 

“We tried to give you two the shove you bloody needed to stop pussyfooting around and get on with it! Worked too. La mia tigrotto was very proud of herself, didn't stop talking about it all honeymoon.”

 

“Doesn't matter anymore,” Theo muttered. “It all went wrong somewhere.”

 

“Yeah… yeah, I know, my friend.”

 

“ _ She _ did this to me!”

 

“What?”

 

“Maybe not all of it… some of it, definitely! She had the  _ key _ , Blaise! You can't trust her.  _ I _ can't trust her!”

 

“What key? Theo, she's gone out of her mind worrying about you, did so much to try and find you! Why would she be involved?”

 

“You think I'm crazy too, don't you?”

 

“You're not crazy. You're confused, scared, and you’ve got a habit of not dealing with your trauma. You just smother it and try to forget, just like you did with what happened to your father.”

 

“How…?”

 

“I was there, remember? I saw it all, and I understand…”

 

“You understand NOTHING!”

 

“Zabini, what's going on?”

 

_ Malfoy. Why was he here? Who told him what was going on? _

 

“He won't let me in, Draco. Talk to him, per favore!”

 

There was a shuffling sound outside as the men changed places on the step.

 

“Theo?”

 

“Go away, Malfoy! The Aurors told me everything. You're in on it too, I know it!

 

“In on what? Some mysterious plan to kidnap and torture you for no apparent reason? No thanks! Stop being a crazy moron and open the fucking door!” Malfoy kicked the door, the wood shivering under the blow.

 

“You're not coming in!” Theo roared flicking his father's wand at the door. Several jinxes sprang to life, flashing outwards, and both Blaise and Draco were thrown off the step, all the way across the driveway and into the road. A black cab swerved to avoid them, horn blaring.

 

Blaise groaned as he staggered to his feet, his hair dripping with slime and his fingers swollen to three times their normal size. Draco had a giant nose that obscured his eyes completely, rendering him blind, and he flailed around with arms that were twice the length of his body.

 

“Nice one, Malfoy!” Blaise spluttered. “Testa di cazzo!”

 

~~~

 

“I don't know what else I can do. He won't let me in, his Floo is blocked, all the locks changed and secured with curses to prevent anyone breaking in. He's sinking in on himself, and I'm going mad without him… I know I can help him if only he'd let me! I thought I was getting through to him before…”

 

She was sat on her sofa back in her warm apartment, the chill had finally been replaced with a cosy warm feeling. She was sure the firewhisky Adrian had made her drink had helped.

 

“Hermione,” Adrian said, leaning over to her and placing his hand on hers, “Theo is a strong man. He is grieving now, and this is all part of the process. He needs this time on his own to sort his head out.”

 

Hermione sniffed, wiping her eyes with Adrian's handkerchief, turning her other hand within his. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking his thumb over the back. His eyes were warm and earnest. 

 

“Do you think we can ever get back what we had?”

 

Adrian smiled sadly, glancing away. “I… don't know.”

 

They sat there like that for a few moments his touch was soothing and she relaxed into the sofa leaving her hand in his. 

 

“Fancy a top up?” he asked her.

 

“I’m not sure how much is left, but yeah I do.”

 

She watched as he stood and walked into the kitchen, a moment later he called out, “Hermione, your kitchen cupboard looks like a bar. You have five bottles of firewhisky in here and something called Kraken?”

 

She laughed as he walked back into the lounge carrying both the firewhisky and the bottle of Kraken. “It’s rum!”

 

“As in pirate rum?” he smirked.

 

“Exactly like that. In fact, now you have brought that out, I will have some of that! I had forgotten that it was in the cupboard. Try some.”

 

She watched him pour her a generous helping and realised quite quickly that she had no mixers for that. 

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he pointedly ignored her suggestion of trying the rum and topped his glass back up with the firewhisky.

 

“You are meant to mix the rum with something, but I don't have anything. I haven't exactly been keeping the cupboards stocked up.”

 

He sat back down next to her with a bump, putting his arm around her and pulling her in close. “Oh well, looks like it's a liquid dinner for us tonight. You can drink your rum neat, like a good little pirate.”

 

He moved to grab the glasses and passed her hers… “Bottoms up, Hermione.” He downed his drink in one and looked at her pointedly. 

 

She looked around in one last-ditch attempt to avoid the drink, before shrugging and joining him in draining her glass. She gasped as the strong alcohol burnt its way down her throat and almost immediately hit her bloodstream. Her empty stomach suggested a protest, but before she could focus on it, she found her glass refilled and orders to go again.

 

The evening continued in that vein, with no talk of Theo allowed (“Auror's orders!”) and only light topics discussed, and plenty of laughter; in the early hours the pair were stumbling towards her bedroom. 

 

Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, Adrian managing to steady her. She ended up with her back to the wall, Adrian pressed against her. He stole a kiss, and she pushed him away, wagging her finger at him, smirking at his insolent grin.

 

“I can find my own way, Adrian,” she slurred. “I've lived here long enough to know where my bed is, you know?”

 

“What kind of Auror would I be if I didn’t check the damsel’s bedroom for monsters?” came his mumbled reply, followed by a series of guffaws.

 

Her giggles started to be replaced by hiccoughs, which made her giggle more. They pushed past the door frame and collapsed onto her bed in a fit of laughter.

 

“You shouldn’t be in here, Pucey,” she managed to say as he pulled her closer to him. 

 

“I know,” came his muffled response. 

 

~~~

 

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window the following morning, the mixture of light and a banging headache was waking Hermione. That and a very full bladder! She tried to turn over and found herself blocked by a hard body. 

 

“Theo?” she mumbled. Her sudden movement to see him caused a lurch of her stomach.  _ Sweet hell, how much did I drink last night?  _

 

Her eyes adjusted to the light and she quickly realised it certainly wasn’t Theo who lay next to her in bed. She scrambled away looking herself and him up and down quickly.

 

They were both fully clothed.

 

It looked like they never actually made it into the bed, the covers were still pulled up, and cushions were scattered across like normal. 

 

She breathed a huge sigh of relief, thankful she hadn’t been  _ that _ stupid. The pain in her head came back tenfold now her panic was over, and her bladder reminded her of its presence too. Pucey was snoring loudly as she quietly escaped the room. She wasn’t sure she could deal with him just yet. 

 

She made her way into the bathroom, and from there, once relieved, to the lounge, which was bathed in sunlight. She saw the three empty or mostly empty bottles. Well, they had certainly drunk themselves to oblivion last night. Just the sight of the bottles turned her stomach. 

 

She quickly turned to the kitchen, hunting down a hangover cure and some food; she was starving! Once she reached the kitchen, however, her attention was caught by Quincy, sat on her kitchen table. A scroll was attached to his leg. Somehow the bird's large eyes looked sad.

 

“Hey, Quincy,” she whispered with a smile, “how long have you been here?” She approached him, and he automatically adjusted to let her remove the message before nuzzling her hand gently. With a sad hoot, he flapped his wings and flew out through the open window.

 

She hurriedly unfolded the scroll, and she noted just two words. No niceties.

 

_ It’s over.  _

 

Her heart dropped.  _ No, it's not right… it can't be! _

 

“Morning, gorgeous,” Adrian said as he moved closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 

She flinched away from him as if his touch burned her. 

 

“Mina? What’s wrong.”

 

“Don’t call me that!” she cried.

 

“Okay, okay. What’s happened?”

 

“Theo. It’s over.”

 

“What’s over?” Adrian asked his face filled with confusion. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head as if that combination would wake him up.

 

“Theo has ended it,” she replied quietly, her voice hitching as she spoke. She passed him the note. “I can’t deal with this, Adrian. I feel like I am slowly being broken down... and hell my head is killing me.”

 

He looked up and took her hands in his. “Hermione, let’s just take a day. Let’s go and enjoy Christmas Eve, take your mind off of this, okay? Take some space and come at it with a fresh perspective. What else would you do now otherwise? Go back and sit on his doorstep?” 

 

She chuckled wryly. “No, I think I’ve learnt that that didn't work. I just can’t process this right now. Surely he doesn’t mean it? How can he, after everything? So much for Blaise talking sense into him.”

 

“Come on, let's find a headache cure and go and have a fun day?”

 

Hermione looked around, biting her lip. “I…”

 

“You what? No excuses, Hermione. What would you be doing otherwise?” he pressed.

 

“You’re right! Everyone has plans today, tomorrow is the day where we are all hanging out. Traditional Christmas day at the Weasley’s. Okay, let's do it. I need a day where I don’t cry for a change! I will deal with Theo tomorrow.”

 

Adrian did a mini cheer, and they both laughed. 

 

“Pucey, I might still be a little drunk. You are a bad influence. Hurry up and make that potion.”

 

“We could forgo it and just go for hair of the dog?” he challenged.

 

Before she knew what was happening, she was dressed and stood in a busy Diagon Alley, a firewhisky coffee in her hands. 

 

The street bustled with last minute, harassed shoppers, hyped up kids haring around, their frazzled parents following them as quick as they could. The shop windows were decorated beautifully with their Christmas window displays. Flourish and Blotts would always be her favourite. Paper snowflakes fell from ceiling to floor, disappearing before reappearing again to repeat the flurry. Snow white quills danced and fluttered around every now and again, a stream of merry red and glorious gold inks trickling from them and turning into tinsel streamers.

 

Adrian laughed at her wistful gaze. “Always the book nerd, Hermione.”

 

Turning away from the window she swatted him, laughing. “Books make me happy and who doesn’t love a bit of stationary.”

 

“Sweet Merlin woman, let’s get another drink before you go in there and buy the entire store.”

 

“I still have all of this! Are you trying to get me drunk again?”

 

“Yes,” he replied simply, grabbing her hand and tugging her along behind him, away from the shops and towards the Leaky Cauldron.

 

Whilst they sat and put away a few more drinks, they talked. Probably the most openly they had talked ever. For once the conversation was nothing about Theo, work, miscarriage or anything that had happened in the last year.

 

They talked as friends, as two people getting to know each other. 

 

Hermione couldn’t remember laughing so much for a long time.  _ Since before Theo disappeared in fact _ , her subconscious reminded her pointedly. She ignored the pang of pain and dragged Adrian back outside. It had started snowing, and an ice rink had appeared at the bottom of Diagon alley; witches and wizards alike were skating in around the walls. 

 

Hermione felt like looking around for George, surely this was a classic sign of his mischief-making. The Ministry would be onto this in no time. A health and safety risk no doubt.

 

“Quick, Adrian, let's go skating.”

 

“What? Woman, you are mental! I can barely stand or walk straight, and now you want to skate?”

 

She did, and without responding, she marched over to the rink and once on it transfigured her shoes. Moments later she was gliding across the rink.

 

Well, that's how she thought she looked; in reality, it was far less graceful. Laughing, she turned to see Adrian navigating his way slowly onto the rink.

 

She skated her way across to him and went to stop and then realised she had forgotten how to do that. Before Adrian had taken his first steps, she barreled into him, causing them both to crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs. 

 

As they lay there laughing, trying to untangle themselves, whilst trying to stop the onslaught of giggles, the flash of a camera caught their attention.

 

Hermione turned to look up and saw a Daily Prophet reporter snapping photos of them.

 

“Miss Granger, give us a smile!” the guy she didn't recognise shouted as he snapped away.

 

Before she could respond, Adrian pulled her into a half hug and gave a thumbs up towards the camera.

 

She hurried to get to her feet, skating away. That pang she had been ignoring all day struck her again.

 

Adrian sailed up to her, his skating legs found. “Come on, Hermione, ignore the reporter. I’m getting the hang of this now.”

 

“You didn’t ignore him though, Adrian. You played up for him!”

 

“What?”

 

“You know how I feel about the press, they shit stir everything.”

 

“Don’t worry, we haven’t done anything! It was all innocent. Anyway, he’s been around all day taking photos of lots of people.”

 

“Has he? I didn't see him.” She transfigured her skates back into shoes and exited the rink, leaving Adrian scrabbling behind her to catch her up.

 

“Hermione, come on, I don’t see the problem. We haven’t done anything wrong, or anything that could be misconstrued.” 

 

“Of course it can,” she snapped, turning to face him again and halting him in his tracks. “They twist everything! You know that!”

 

“Look,” he said, his hands moving to her shoulders, “how about we go and have another drink?” Bolstered by the fact that she hadn’t shrugged him off, he moved to put his arm around her. “Come on. No drama today, remember?”

 

“No, Adrian. I think I want to go home. I’ve had a great day, but I’m not sure the drink is having the desired effect; I'm actually feeling a bit ill. I think I need some time alone after all.”

 

She saw a fleeting look of something like anger pass across his face, but she must have imagined it as right away her had offered to drop her home with a smile. She declined but thanked him for taking her mind off things today. She kissed his cheek softly before Apparating home.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 7 will post on Tuesday 2nd October


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot going on in this one, some Christmas fun, some laughter, some tears and pain, and we hope you enjoy it.
> 
> We wanted to take a moment to say something beforehand though:
> 
> First off, thank you for still reading this waffly nonsense, if indeed you still are. This is the first story that either of us have written that has broken through the 100k words mark, and it's frankly boggling!
> 
> We also want to thank everyone who assisted us with a scene in this chapter, which (we hope) helped us to portray an ace (asexual) person accurately. We enjoyed chatting with several people from the AO3 Facebook group, getting your feedback and advice: so if any of you are reading this: thank you, and we hope we did a good job!
> 
> Nathaniel & Imtrouble  
> x

“Hey, long face. What you thinking about?”

 

Hermione looked up at Ron as he joined her on the step outside the Burrow. She gave him a wan smile. “Everything.”

 

“Well, that sounds difficult. Best have a drink to make it easier.” He plonked down next to her, holding out a glass filled with whatever George had made. She hadn't yet had the courage to try it; the strange shifting colour had put her off. That and the way she felt like it was looking at her somehow. “Try it. No, seriously!” he said as her mouth twisted in trepidation. “It's good. What's your favourite drink these days?”

 

“Kraken and coke. It used to be anyway.”

 

“Okay, hold that thought in your mind and take a sip.”

 

She held the glass gingerly, trying not to look at the strange substance. Closing her eyes, she took a small sip.

 

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her eyes flying open again.

 

“It's good isn't it?” Ron said with a grin. “Pick a different drink. Uhh, butterbeer, go on!”

 

Holding the thought of butterbeer in her mind, she took a slightly larger swig. The warm and creamy, frothy taste of butterbeer coated her throat.

 

“This is incredible!”

 

“I know!”

 

“It's some kind of cognitively determined, self-polymorphing consumable that reacts via physical contact!”

 

Ron blinked for a moment. “Yup! That's exactly what it is! And it can change with a thought too… Oh, wait… that's what you just said, isn't it?”

 

She laughed at his expression. “Sorry, Ron, but this is amazing! How did George come up with this?”

 

“Well, not to toot my own horn, but we came up with it together. We were talking about where to take the product line at the shop and started hashing out ideas. Came up with this one. We've been working on it for a few weeks now.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Early attempts were  _ not _ good.”

 

“Is he at least taking his turn at testing them? Or is he still making you do it?”

 

“No, he tried a few batches too. I think he now sees me as more of a partner, rather than just his baby brother.”

 

“That's good, I'm glad to hear it.”

 

“So?” he said, drawing out the word and looking at her intently.

 

She sighed. “I messed up recently. I messed up a lot… and I don't know what to do anymore, Ron.” She could hear her voice tremble, and her throat close up on her. Her eyes filled with tears but she drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep herself from crying.

 

“Hey,” he said, shuffling closer and putting his arm around her. “I know it feels bad right now, but it'll get better. You've got to know that, right?”

 

“I don't see how. Theo's shut me out. Shut everybody out! He's spiralling, and no one's there to catch him before he hits the ground.”

 

“You can't blame yourself for this, Hermione. I spoke to Dawlish while I still worked at the department. He told me stories of people that had problems like this. He called it Past Trauma Syndrome, or something. People get flashbacks, terrible memories creeping up on them; the littlest things can set it off.”

 

Hermione nodded. “I know that, Ron, and I know it's all linked back to his kidnap, and that there's still no one that's been arrested for it. Muggles call it PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder.”

 

“There, see! Not so crazy those Muggles, are they?”

 

She looked up at his grin and felt her own lips lift slightly. “No, I guess not.”

 

“So, you obviously know all the symptoms and stuff. And probably the treatments used… and have two or six books on the subject…”

 

She gave a funny coughing laugh, tears finally overspilling. “Yes, Ron, I've researched it thoroughly.”

 

“Of course you have,” he murmured. He grunted as she elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Cheeky.”

 

He scoffed. “I  _ know _ you, Mione. If there's a problem, you can be found at the library, or bookshop, finding the answer to it.”

 

“It is what I do, isn't it?”

 

“Ever since I've known you.”

 

She shook her head. “It's not helped this time though. I can't help him if he won't let me in. I can be the foremost expert in treating stress disorders, but if he won't talk to me…”

 

“You can't solve everything, as much as you may want to. Maybe Theo doesn't want to be saved?”

 

“Don't say that, Ron…”

 

“I know you love him. Merlin knows I'm quite fond of him too! He's a great guy. But he's been changed by what he went through, and the Theo we all knew might not be there any more. Sometimes it may be best to… if not walk away, because I don't think that's the right thing to do, in this case… but at least wait a bit. Let him cool off for a day or two, then try and talk to him again, maybe by owl first, Floo call later if he'll let you. I wouldn't recommend turning up on his doorstep… Blaise and Malfoy were in St Mungo's for hours before the Healers managed to remove those hexes!”

 

“Blaise's fingers still look a little bigger than they did.” She gave a wicked grin. “I don't think Ginny is complaining though.”

 

“Eww, gross! Mione, that's my sister!”

 

Their laughter overrode her tears for a while, and the moment helped. Wiping her cheeks and still chuckling, Hermione stood and held out her hand to Ron, pulling him up. When he was stood, she gave him a hug, squeezing him hard.

 

“Thanks, Ron.”

 

“Any time. Come on, let's get back in there, yeah?”

 

Letting out a deep breath, Hermione nodded. “Okay. Theo will be ready to talk soon, and I'll be there when he is!”

 

“Attagirl!”

 

Together they opened the door to the Burrow, the noise being generated by the kids hitting them like a wall. Much like last year the children were running riot, hyped up on sweets and excitement, while Molly marshalled her forces--Angelina, George, little Fred and Molly, and Luna this year. The small kitchen was cramped with so many bodies in it, but they operated as a well-drilled army should. The only people missing from the scene were Theo and Pansy. After the debacle at Hermione’s party, Harry had told Pansy that he wanted to spend Christmas with the Weasley’s without her. He still sported a bit of a yellowish bruise under his left eye; the news clearly had not gone down too well with the proud Slytherin. Theo’s absence pulled at Hermione’s heart, but she tried to put it aside, for now at least. Dinner didn't look like it would be too much longer.

 

She exchanged a grin and a wave with Luna, the blonde saying something to Molly, who waved her away with a smile. Luna dried her hands on a towel and skipped across the room towards Hermione and Ron. She took a small detour to give Charlie a kiss on the cheek. He in turn smiled and gave her a kiss on the lips.

 

Hermione’s eyebrows rose at this. She exchanged a glance with Ron, who shrugged and said, “Yup, surprised us too.”

 

He gave Luna a brief hug in greeting before leaving the ladies to chat.

 

“Welcome back,” Luna said happily. “I was worried about you.”

 

“Thanks, Luna. I'm okay though. Just thinking too much, I guess.”

 

Luna pulled Hermione over to the sofa, which was currently free, and they both plonked down into the soft cushions. Luna tucked her legs underneath her, smiling up at Ginny as the redhead joined them, precariously balancing three cups of eggnog on a tray.

 

“Ladies. Nog?” she asked, a slight slur to her words.

 

“How many of these have you had today, Ginny?” Hermione laughed.

 

“More than one,” she said with a grin. “Charlie slipped a little extra alcohol into it when mum wasn't looking. Pretty sure George put him up to it.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Men! But what about Luca? Aren't you breastfeeding still?”

 

“It'll be okay. I expressed a few bottles worth this morning, and we’ve started weaning this week too.”

 

Taking one of the cups, Hermine took a sip while eyeing Luna over the rim. Luna seemed… happier. She was always bright and cheerful, but there was something new about her.

 

They chatted amiably about Luna’s expeditions and Ginny’s plan to head into punditry for Quidditch once Luca was a little older. The girls were very interested in Hermione’s announcement that she had been learning a Muggle martial art.

 

“Oo! Show me on Blaise!” Ginny cackled. “Go on, throw him round the room!”

 

“No, I’ll probably accidentally hurt him! I’ve only had a couple of lessons, so my control isn’t good. It’s only been brief moments when Roberts could spare me half an hour at the hospital. I’ve only had maybe an hour in total since Theo came out of hospital.”

 

“As long as you promise to repair the damage, I’ll let you break my husband’s arm! It’s all in the name of entertainment… You can throw him around in the snow outside!” Ginny cried, thoroughly excited by the prospect.

 

“Ginny!” Hermione laughed, Luna giggling too.

 

“Come on, it’ll be hilarious!”

 

Blaise abruptly leant over the back of the sofa, hands grabbing Ginny by the shoulders. The three girls gave a giggling scream as he smothered Ginny’s neck in kisses. “I heard every word, la mia tigrotto! It’s not happening!”

 

Once Blaise had left them again, and the three of them had stopped shrieking with laughter, Hermione asked the burning question. “So, Luna… you and Charlie? When did that happen?”

 

Luna smiled brightly. “A few months ago. I was travelling and saw that I was close to Romania. I decided to pop in and try to find Charlie, say hi.”

 

“You just  _ happened _ to want to go find my brother?” Ginny sniggered.

 

“Yes,” Luna said serenely. “I like Charlie, and I think his work with dragons is fascinating. I haven't had much chance to study them, and saw an opportunity.”

 

“That's it?” Hermione said with a smirk. “No thought of seeing the hunky man in action, shirt off, sweat glistening in the heat of dragon's fire?”

 

“Ew, Hermione! Don't talk about my brother like that!”

 

“I'm just saying, he's a well built, muscly man. I can see why Luna would like a piece of that.”

 

Luna put her head on one side, seemingly giving it serious thought. “No,” she said after a while.

 

Hermione blinked. “'No’?”

 

“Yes, no. I've never thought of him in those terms. Yes, I can see why others would like his body, and he's certainly a handsome man. It's not something I've thought about.”

 

“You never fantasised about Charlie Weasley? You might be the only one…”

 

“Hermione!” Ginny cried, scandalised.

 

Hermione giggled into her cup; this stuff really was strong. “I'm just saying…”

 

“Charlie and I don't really have that kind of relationship.”

 

Ginny frowned, confused. “You don't? So you haven't…?”

 

“Tasted the fire?” Hermione drawled, then snickered at Ginny's disgusted face.

 

“I have, once. We tried it, once we realised that our friendship had become more… exclusive? We realised eventually that we had casually started dating. At first, we just bonded over our love of magical creatures, discussed our research. Then we started spending more time together, went out for meals… you know, dating.”

 

“What do you mean, you 'tried it’?” Ginny asked, curious despite herself.

 

“Sex, I mean,” Luna said.

 

Ginny made a face. “Yes, I realise that… What I meant is… I mean, wasn't it something you  _ wanted _ to do. You know, passion and lust…” She waved her hand vaguely, a little green thinking about her brother and her best friend. “And all that… stuff.”

 

Luna gave this some serious thought again, Hermione exchanging a look with Ginny over the woman's head. “Not really,” Luna said after a moment. “We didn't really talk about it before. It sort of happened. It wasn't very satisfactory.”

 

Hermione nearly spat out her eggnog. Ginny looked mildly offended.

 

“We talked about it afterwards, and we realised that neither of us had really wanted to have sex. It's just what you do when you're dating. Once we realised we were both of the same mind, things were easier.”

 

“Key to a good relationship is communication,” Ginny said faintly, her face still warring between confusion, disgust, and offence.

 

“So don’t you get… urges?” Hermione asked, intrigued.

 

“Not in that sense. The idea of sex isn’t really all that appealing to either of us.”

 

“Sorry, but what about…uh...” Hermione began.

 

“Oh yes, we still have needs,” Luna said, seeing where Hermione was going. “But we prefer to take care of these ourselves. We like to think of it as mandatory maintenance.”

 

Ginny gagged at this, the thought of her brother 'maintaining’ himself clearly not sitting well with her. Hermione smiled though, seeing that Luna was happy; she simply didn't need or want sex. The fact that Charlie felt the same way made Hermione doubly glad they had found each other. She had no doubt that having a relationship with another person, who  _ did _ have those sexual urges, would have been difficult and awkward at times.

 

“I offered to help him once,” Luna said brightly.

 

“Excuse me?” Ginny said faintly.

 

“With his mandatory maintenance.”

 

“Oh sweet Merlin, I don't want to know…” Ginny muttered.

 

“I do!” exclaimed Hermione with a grin.

 

“Charlie had hurt his arm, and the Healer said he needed to keep it immobile. It was his left arm though.”

 

Hermione nodded, knowing Charlie was left handed. Ginny was slowly shaking her head.

 

“It was in the morning, and you know what men are like in the morning?”

 

Hermione nodded sagely, her eyes sparkling as Ginny slowly went green.

 

“Well, I offered to deal with it for him. I guess that's what some couples do for each other. I just thought it would be nice.”

 

“Please don't finish this story,” Ginny muttered.

 

“Please don't stop!” Hermione countered.

 

“Well, while he appreciated the help, said it had felt nice, I think he prefers to take care of it himself. And that's okay. I haven't had any practice at that, so I think my technique wasn't quite right?”

 

Hermione hid her smile at the look on Ginny's face by taking a large swig of her eggnog. The redhead was desperately trying to stand up to get away, not wanting to hear any more.

 

“It might also have been because I couldn't get it all in my mouth. It's very long.”

 

Eggnog spat from Hermione's mouth and nose as she laughed explosively. Ginny finally managed to stand, her face matching her hair.

 

“Nope! I'm out!” she declared, throwing her hands up and marching away. “I didn't need that!”

 

Luna looked at Hermione, who was giggling and wiping eggnog off her face. “Was it something I said?”

 

~~~

 

Christmas dinner was an awkward affair, for Hermione at least. Whilst the food was as good as it ever was, and the laughter and cheer in the Burrow couldn’t help but lift her spirits, the fact that it wasn't Theo sat at her side dampened her mood. That and she couldn’t look Charlie in the eye anymore; Luna had admitted she had no experience with men and sex, so how long, exactly,  _ was _ ‘very long’? Charlie chose that moment to place his hands about two foot apart, indicating to Bill the size of the dragon egg he had recently recovered. Hermione gave a snort of laughter and hurriedly covered it with a cough, catching sight of Ginny’s glare from a few places up the table. She bit her lip and looked away to keep the giggles under control.

 

“Good to see you out and about, and smiling again, Hermione,” said George, sat at her side.

 

“It’s always lovely to be here for Christmas. Molly puts on a great spread,” Hermione said, lifting her glass to Molly, who beamed happily at her.

 

“What you drinking?” George asked, nodding at her glass. It was another glass of his new concoction.

 

“Last sip? Firewhisky. This time I think I’ll have a bit of Butterbeer to wash it down.” She took a long sip, sighed happily and placed her glass on the table again. “Perfect.”

 

George grinned at her. “Wanna invest? Ron and I are looking to expand into another store. The most likely place is Hogsmeade.”

 

“Trying to get in on the weekend market during term time too? Good idea.”

 

“Fred and I planned to do it years ago. Never really had the time to think about it after the war, but now I’ve got Ronnikins on board, things are going great. We reckon it’s time to expand!  Maybe even go international one day."

 

“Steady on, George!” Ron said from George’s other side. “Let’s try and get one additional store going first, yeah?”

 

“He worries too much,” George said quietly.

 

“When the bloody hell did I become the voice of reason!” Ron said, shaking his head.

 

“Been hanging around with her too much,” George laughed, nodding at Hermione.

 

She swatted his arm. “I think a bit of caution is advisable when breaking new ground. Especially in business.”

 

“Thank you!” Ron declared.

 

George shook his head “Nah! Go big or…”

 

“Go bust?” Ron interjected.

 

At that moment they were interrupted by a flat  _ thump _ from the sitting room window. Heads all spun round in time to see Pigwidgeon flattened against the glass, the Christmas edition of the Daily Prophet dangling from his claws. The little owl slowly slid down the glass and dropped into the bushes, dazed.

 

“Stupid bloody bird!” Ron muttered, standing and striding outside.

 

Everyone else turned back to their dinners with chuckles, resuming their conversations. Hermione was just getting into a conversation about the logistics of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes planned expansion when Ron called her name from the door.

 

“You better come and look at this,” he said, his face ashen. He was holding the Prophet to his chest, hands covering the back page too, his eyes wide.

 

“What is it?” Hermione whispered, her stomach dropping and flipping around like a fish on dry land.

 

“What’s happened, mate?” Harry said, standing a touch faster than Hermione and walking over.

 

“No, I think it’s best if Mione sees it first…” Ron muttered, holding a hand out to stop Harry.

 

All eyes turned to her as she stood and crossed the room. It was like a walk to the gallows. What had happened? Had something happened to Theo? Was he hurt?  _ Please don’t let it be that _ .

 

Ron held out the paper to her, and she took it with a trembling hand. Her hand lifted to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks at the picture, almost taking up the whole of the front page. The headline was blunt, brutal; a knife in the gut.

 

FAME HUNGRY GRANGER SEEKS LOVE WITH HERO AUROR!!!

 

A detached part of her mind said,  _ Three exclamation marks, clearly an insane person _ , recalling the words of one of her favourite childhood authors. The rest of her sank to the floor with a choked sob, Harry immediately leaping to her side.

 

“Oh…” he said as he caught sight of the paper in her hand, and Hermione felt her heart break at the disappointment in his tone, in his eyes.

 

“No, Harry, please! It’s… it’s not what they’re making it out to be, I promise you!”

 

“The pictures say differently, Hermione,” he muttered.

 

Some of the others had left the table now, crowding closer, wanting to know what was going on. Molly’s gasp as she saw the paper cut through Hermione, Arthur's sigh and downcast eyes stung her too. Angelina sank down next to her and wrapped her in a hug, Ginny only a step behind.

 

“I can't say I'm not disappointed, Hermione,” Ginny whispered, “but you hung on as long as you could. I just want you to be happy, and if he can do that for you…”

 

She felt Angelina nodding her agreement against her shoulder and shrugged the two women off. Pushing herself to her feet, she looked around at the Weasley family, anger and hurt in her eyes. “I can't believe you're all giving this… this  _ bullshit _ any credence!”

 

The older children, Fred, Molly, Victoire, and Dominique, all looked at each other with small smirks tugging at their lips, uncertain whether to laugh at the swear word. George pulled them closer and whispered for them to leave the grownups to talk. The small group ambled a short distance away, watching the adults over the back of an armchair.

 

“Hermione, love,” said Bill, “this has clearly been coming for a while now. We had sort of hoped you might have said something sooner and not waited until the press made it a sensation, but…”

 

“Personally, I think it's a mistake,” interrupted Blaise, ignoring Ginny's glare. Clearly, they had had this conversation before. “Adrian's a snake, not just because he's a Slytherin. He always has been.”

 

“Hey, let's not bad mouth Hermione's choices,” Harry said.

 

Hermione was shaking, her fists clenched. She could hear her teeth grinding in frustration. “I AM NOT DATING ADRIAN FUCKING PUCEY!” she yelled, shoving her way past Ron and barging through the door.

 

Outside she gulped in great lungfuls of cold, winter air. Tears stung her eyes, and she foundered a little in the deep snow, stomping towards the edge of the property's boundary.

 

How could they think that of her? Why would they believe she would abandon Theo so quickly?

 

The press always took something innocent and corrupted it, twisted into something hateful and sordid! They should know that from all the horrible things the press said about Harry over the years; they vilified him, even trying to take her down with him. She hated the press with a passion, and they always had to find the smallest thing and blow it all out of proportion.

 

She realised that someone was calling her name. She didn't look around, hands stuffed stubbornly into the pockets of her hoodie; she'd stormed out so quickly she had forgotten her coat and the chill was starting to penetrate the thin material.

 

“Hermione, please wait.”

 

Surprised by the voice she turned, seeing Arthur struggling through the deep snow. Trying not to shiver she folded her arms, fingers drumming on her sleeve.

 

“Thank you,” Arthur gasped as he finally reached her. “I'm getting old now, and battling through all that snow is exhausting for a codger like me.”

 

Despite herself, Hermione gave a snort of laughter. “You're not _ that _ old, Arthur. You do quite well with a full house.”

 

“Yes,” Arthur said, hands on his knees, breathing shallowly, “but that's only once a year and it takes me three days to recover!”

 

She smiled and rubbed his back as he coughed. “And then they come over again at New Year…”

 

He groaned, straightening with an expression of long-suffering. “Oh, Merlin, don't remind me! I love my kids, and especially my grandchildren, but as they get bigger…” His eyes widened, hands lifting to his face. “... they get  _ louder _ !”

 

She laughed again and hugged him in commiseration. “You love it!”

 

“I do, yes.”

 

“I'm sorry, Arthur,” she mumbled into his chest. “I didn't mean to ruin the mood with my drama.”

 

Squeezing her tightly he grinned. “I think of it more as a quick break in festivities. Are you okay, Hermione? Really, you know there's no judgement? We all just want you to be happy. Things have been so tough for you for so long…”

 

Tears spilt down her cheeks again, tingling against her skin in the cold air. “No, I'm not happy, Arthur. I'm tired of being poked and goaded, tired of being made to feel I am less of a being, of feeling degraded and scorned. I'm tired of picking up the pieces, of being the rock in the storm for people. I just want… easy… I just want things to be simple for once.”

 

“He's not your responsibility to fix, Hermione. If it is causing you pain, it is okay to walk away.”

 

“He's got no one else. How can I leave him? I still love him.”

 

“You can love someone until you're blue in the face, but if they keep hurting you… Sometimes it is better to leave them to themselves, for a while at least. It might just help them to realise that your presence is something they need.”

 

“What if…?”

 

“If he does not come to that conclusion, then his feelings have changed for you, and it was the right decision to give him space. It gives you room to breathe, and not burn yourself out trying to be friend, lover, Healer, and mother. One person should not be all of these things at the same time, it's not healthy.”

 

“Ron said something similar.”

 

“Did he? Hmm, smart boy. Must get that from his parents.” His grin was warm and friendly, and Hermione laughed in spite of herself. “My old bones can't take all this cold,” he continued. “Shall we go back inside?”

 

“Oh, I don't think I can face everyone. Not after that...”

 

“No one will talk about the paper, no one will make you feel uncomfortable. Molly and I made it very clear that the subject is off the table unless you wish to discuss it further.”

 

Hermione wrung her hands, lip between her teeth. “I don't know…”

 

He smiled, putting his arm around her and drawing her back towards the house. “Yes, you do. We need to get back in there before Ron eats all of the potatoes!”

 

“He is a bit of a potato monster.”

 

“Molly cooks extra to try and limit the damage, you know?” He gave a dramatic sigh. “But with so many mouths to feed… I miss bubble and squeak.”

 

Hermione grinned at that. There probably wasn't much left over for tomorrow's dinner by the time the family had had their fill.

 

“The shock of it has worn off, and people have read the words. It's sensationalist journalism at its worst, as usual. No one will say anything if you don't want them to, darling.”

 

Taking his arm and a deep breath Hermione nodded. Together they crunched their way through the snow, towards the higgledy-piggledy house, rejoining the family.

 

She never mentioned the paper, and true to his word the family never said anything about it either. She was sure she would receive visits from Ginny to talk more, and that the subject would be discussed ad nauseum.

 

For the rest of the day though, Hermione managed to regain some Christmas cheer.

 

~~~

 

The wards chimed, the logs in the grate starting to shift in response.

 

Theo waved his father's wand, blocking the call. Again.

 

“Twenty-six,” he muttered, taking another swig of firewhisky. “Stupid, stubborn Malfoy.” He looked around blearily, taking in the two empty bottles of wine, and the empty firewhisky bottle.

 

“Still got you though,” he drawled to the bottle in his hand. The liquid sloshed around in the bottom, barely more than a couple of mouthfuls left. “Though not for long, it seems.”

 

In the dim light of the house, there was a low, sorrowful call.

 

“Go away, Quincy!” Theo yelled. Sat on the floor, slumped against the sofa; unwashed since yesterday, unshaven since the day before, he made a pretty picture. “The great boy wonder, Theodore Nott!” he whispered to the room. “So many saved! Such a hero. Pah!”

 

The chimes sounded again. With a snarl, Theo snatched up an empty wine bottle and threw it at the fire. It vanished into the Floo with a flash of green light.

 

“Ow! What the hell, Nott!?” yelled Malfoy.

 

“Twenty-seven,” he cried, raising the firewhisky in salute.

 

“You're drunk, aren't you?”

 

“That I am. What of it?”

 

The logs shifted, forming a shape in the fire. Malfoy's burning visage sneered at him in judgement. “You're a mess! What are you trying to do, drown yourself?”

 

“Not a bad idea, maybe I'll do that next.”

 

“She's a woman, not a goddess! Stop holding her in such high regard! She's got nothing to offer you, and it looks like she was only after you for your fame.”

 

“And you thought it was my money,” Theo said peevishly.

 

“So I was wrong about that. So what? She's a gold-digger for something more intangible then, still best out of your life.”

 

Theo casually tossed another bottle at the fire, Malfoy's face vanishing briefly as he dodged the missile.

 

“You're a horrible drunk when you're in a mood, you know that?”

 

Theo nodded, rubbing his unshaven chin. “Yep, we can agree on that. However, in the morning, I shall be sober, but  _ you _ will still be a spiteful shit!”

 

“You ungrateful…”

 

“Goodbye, Malfoy! Happy Christmas,” he slurred, pointing the wand at the fire again, terminating the connection.

 

He dropped the wand and wiped his hand on the sofa. Bloody thing always felt bad when he cast. He still couldn't bear to think of it as his, even though it obeyed him as its master. Should have replaced his own wand; his father's had such bad memories and events attached to it.

 

“Happy Christmas to you too, you old bastard,” he muttered. “S’pose you'd be happy to see the back of her. That's fine… your opinion never meant much. Just another dead thing, left in the wake of my fucked up life. Here's to you anyway.”

 

He tipped his head back, draining the last of the firewhisky. Slipping sideways he flopped to lie full length on the carpet, his face stuck to the pages of the Prophet’s Christmas special.

 

Quincy hooted sadly from the kitchen, only Theo's snore answering him.

 

~~~

 

The room was shrouded in darkness as Theo awoke from a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.

 

Christmas and Boxing Day had passed in a blur of sleep and firewhisky. Which had now run out.

 

He also had run out of food. He reckoned he hadn't eaten for at least a day. 

 

He glanced over at the clock on Hermione’s bedside table. It was early, not even six o'clock yet. His head flopped back onto the pillow trying to let sleep claim him. It didn't. He was awake and free of alcohol, and now his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour.

 

On Christmas Day the delivery owl had brought the Daily Prophet, dropping it on the kitchen table and looking at him moodily until he gave it the Knut in payment.

 

Splashed across the front page was Hermione. Hermione and Pucey. Despite himself he had forced himself to read it, to stare at the damning pictures.

 

He had pushed her into his arms. He knew that. Anger fueled by firewhisky had seen to it. He was pretty sure he needed to repair some furniture or crockery. Something had been smashed recently anyway.

 

He sighed. When had this become his life? He ached. Everything ached. He knew it was partly because he hadn't been taking his medication as often as he should have. He had stopped using his cane too, snapping it on the bannister. His scars throbbed, and right now it seemed his head wanted to join in on the action.

 

He pulled himself out of the unmade bed and dragged himself down the stairs in a quest for both his prescribed potions and a hangover cure.

 

He was dismayed to find none of the latter. His head decided to remind him more fervently that it was there and going nowhere as a consequence. 

 

He heard Quincy rather than saw him. His low, mournful hoot filled the room. Blasted bird. He had been doing this to him ever since he had returned from delivering his note to Hermione. 

 

Ignoring him, Theo turned and headed for the shower, praying it would ease the pain in his head the way his medication had eased the aches in his body.

 

~~~

 

Four hours later his head felt no better. The shower had had a brief calming effect, but alas nothing more. He had come to the conclusion that, as much as he didn't want to, he would need to head into Diagon Alley for a hangover cure. Probably for food as well.

 

A glance out the window showed the weather to be terrible. The rain poured from the leaden sky, and every now and again a large gust of wind would rattle everything. With a sigh, he waved the unfavourable wand over the fireplace and reactivated his Floo network. Grabbing a handful of powder he threw it into the fire and spoke.

 

“Diagon Alley!”

 

He exited the large fireplace, set in the long, cobbled street, and found himself out in the rain. Another quick flick of the wand and a deflecting charm encased him. Every spell from this wand left a grating feel over him. He needed to sort this soon.

 

He hurried across the semi-deserted cobbles, over to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary and was served immediately. Now he could head home.

 

As he headed back towards the Floo, his eye caught sight of Ollivanders, an open sign on his door.

 

Maybe now was the perfect time to sort out the blasted wand.

 

He wandered across and entered the dark shop. He was immediately taken back to the moment he had visited this shop as a young boy, to get his first wand. 

 

His experience had been long-winded. He must have tried forty different wands before he had found his one. As a small boy, the process had been exciting, but his current mood led him to believe if he had to wave another forty wands today his patience wouldn't hold out.

 

He heard rather than saw the old man appear from the back of the shop.

 

“Good morning, Mister Nott, how can I help you today? It's been many years since I last saw you. I hope your wand is treating you well?”

 

“It did,” Theo said. “Alas, it was recently broken. It's been one of those years.” He mostly managed to keep his tone from being too sarcastic.

 

“Yes, well one should not dwell too long on that which he cannot change. As such, shall we crack on with the task hand, Mister Nott?” 

 

“That sounds most agreeable.”

 

“Right, show me what you've been using in the meantime.” The old man had moved behind the desk and cleared a space for Theo to lay out his father's wand. 

 

He placed it down and felt a moment of relief that it was off of his person.

 

He watched as the man studied it carefully. Minutes passed before the man looked up at him.

 

“This is not the wand for you. It obeys you, certainly. Sees you as it's master, but it is a wand laced with evil. It has done spells one would rather choose not to think about. This was your father's wand.”

 

“Well guessed,” Theo replied, slightly sickened.

 

“That is not a guess, my boy. I remember every wand I ever sold. Yours, for instance, was cherrywood, eleven inches, with a core of dragon heartstring from a Chinese Fireball. A fine wand, if not a little too pliable at times.” 

 

Theo stood there stunned; he had heard the rumours of Olivander’s legendary memory, but to see it in the flesh was something else.

 

“Answer me this, Theodore. Has this wand here caused you trouble?”

 

He was about to say no, but then took a moment and really thought about it. 

 

“Well, it seems to handle better, shall we say, when I'm doing more... questionable spells? Nothing illegal, of course, but a jinx or hex, for example. But when I need to do an everyday task, or something simple, it fights me. Those spells tend to go awry. Whereas the others tend to have more force than intended. I feel free, more... me when I don't have it on me. I'm sure it's all coincidental; I'm not an easy person to be around at the moment.”

 

Ollivander nodded thoughtfully before turning and disappearing down a narrow alley between stacks of wands. Moments past with only the distant sound of boxes being shuffled before he appeared with a thin box in his grasp.

 

“Here, try this.” He unpacked the wand and handed it to Theo.

 

Before he'd even gripped it properly, flames erupted from it and he dropped it in surprise.

 

“Okay, okay… wrong route it would appear...” He disappeared again, and Theo realised his sleeve was smouldering. Patting it out and making sure he hadn't set fire to anything else made him smirk.

 

A tap on the shoulder made him jump and as he turned another wand was placed in his hand. 

 

No instantaneous reaction happened this time, and he was able to appreciate the feel of this wand in his hand. He could tell it was shorter and slightly broader than his previous wand. He wasn't sure, and neither, it seemed, was Ollivander, as he immediately plucked it from his grip before he had even waved it.

 

“Hmm…” Ollivander grunted, before disappearing off down another aisle.

 

Four wands later and the wandmaker presented him with a box, a secret smile on his face. “This... is it.”

 

“How can you be sure?” Theo asked him, opening the box and taking a look.

 

“I just know,” replied the old man with a smirk.

 

Theo grasped the wand. It felt more like his old wand, although he could tell already it shared no similar traits.

 

With a wave, he created a perfectly formed sculpture of his beloved Quincy, carved most elegantly from walnut.

 

He couldn't help but smile as the warmth of the bond between wizard and wand took place. It was like a calming draught had been applied along with a touch of Felix Felicis; he felt he could achieve anything.

 

He looked up at the old wizard and smiled back at him. “Looks like you were right, sir!” 

 

“Twelve inches, walnut, Hebridean Black heartstring core. The core matches your good lady’s wand, coming from exactly the same dragon. It is funny how wand preferences can change over time and match with those we love the most... even in times of uncertainty and doubt.” He gave Theo a knowing look. “When all is sorted, you two will have an incredible bond on the magical plane, as well as everything else.”

 

With the magical trace of his euphoria from the wand bonding, he almost felt like what the old man said could be true. 

 

“I'm not so sure. Things are complicated right now, and I'm not sure they will ever not be.”

 

The old man nodded but said nothing more, tidying away the old wands. He rang up Theo’s new wand and handed over the new box, along with his father's old wand. “If I were you, I would... dispose of this wand. It pains me to snap a wand; however some are tainted by the things their old owners once used them for. And perhaps also the memories of how it came to be in your possession.”

 

Theo frowned at that, but the old man's eyes were free of any guile or craftiness. “Thank you. I mean it, thank you, Mister Ollivander. I almost feel free again.”

 

“You're welcome, Mister Nott, and heed the advice of someone who knows Hermione Granger…” He held Theo's eyes with a piercing stare. “Uncomplicate things.”

 

Before Theo could reply, the old wandmaker turned and disappeared back to his office. With a final backward glance, Theo stepped back out into the bleak looking Diagon Alley, the shop bell tinkling behind him.

 

He pocketed both wands and disposed of the box, heading back towards the Leaky Cauldron. He found himself in need of a quick drink to steady himself, to think about what his new wand meant. Before he made it, however, he heard someone call his name. Hand in pocket, his fingers closed around one of the two wands inside; he knew instantly it wasn't the new one.

 

He turned around and saw his least favourite journalistic hack rushing towards him. He turned back around and carried on walking, not having either the desire or will to talk to him.

 

“Mister Nott! Theo! Can I grab a quick word,” the man shouted behind him. He ran to catch up with Theo’s quick stride. His hand reached out to grab his arm.

 

“Get off me,” Theo snarled turning around to face the weasel of a man.

 

“Sorry, I just wanted to get a statement. Is it true that you and Miss Granger are no longer together? It seems to us that she's only interested in the most famous wizard at the time. Are you aware she's been accused of this before? I mean, Adrian Pucey is making waves in the media after your rescue, and she has of course been spotted on several occasions with him since. Well, even before you were missing they worked together, were seen at the Ministry Ball last year...”

 

Theo stood there seething, his hand gripped tightly around his father's wand, telling himself not to respond, not to react. He could quite happily curse this little upstart.

 

“Do you have anything to say, Mister Nott? Your girlfriend splashed across the Prophet yesterday? Must have made for some difficult reading, I'm sure! I also heard about your fight at the Parkinson Manor, before Christmas! Was the fight because you found out she aborted your baby to have one with Adrian Pucey instead?”

 

At this point, Theo saw red. He had spotted the Quick Quotes Quill, flapping around behind old Shiftly, and that final question was enough to garner a reaction. Through the scarlet fog, he saw Shiftly’s smirk, knowing he had pressed the right buttons.

 

The smirk faded fast.

 

Theo's fist connected with the reporter’s nose with a horrible crunching sound. Blood spackled Theo's coat as he pushed Shiftly against the wall, the reporter's skull making a sickening thud as well. Dazed, the reporter barely heard the words that were screamed at him, Theo looking a little crazed. Shiftly fell to the floor as the enraged man released him and took a step back.

 

A small group of onlookers gave way to the angry man as he stormed into the Leaky Cauldron and disappeared from sight.

 

~~~

 

The following day's headlines made for colourful reading.

 

WIZARDING WORLD’S GOLDEN BOY TURNS FERAL!!

War Heroine, Granger, Leaves To Find Solace With Star Auror!

 

Pictures of Theo attacking Shifty, and the photographer Theo had punched at the Quidditch match a few years ago were shown, side by side, along with a picture of a distraught looking Hermione. 

 

There was even a sub-headline in the main story that targeted the loss of their baby.

 

Granger's Miscarriage A Blessing In Disguise As Nott's Violent Streak Escalates!

 

And the final blow was on the back page.

 

Hero Auror Confirms Relationship With Granger - Exclusive To Follow In Witch Weekly.

 

Theo threw the paper across the room, nearly knocking Quincy off his perch as he did so. The offended owl gave a screech and flapped out into the garden.

 

Theo reached across the table and grabbed his father's wand, snapping it in half. He knew it had again clouded his judgement. Not that the bastard reporter hadn't had it coming! He had been antagonising and provoking he and Hermione all year, by all accounts.

 

But Theo knew now he had lost it all. His reputation, much of his sanity by the looks of things, and, worst of all, the woman he loved.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 (and the end of Part 3!) will post on Friday 5th October.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3: Chapter 8

With a sigh, Adrian stood and moved over to the sofa in the corner of his office, sitting and gesturing for Hermione to join him. After a moment she did so, sitting at the opposite end, worrying at a fingernail with her teeth.

 

“Look, Hermione, you came here asking for my advice, and I'll be honest with you; I don't really know Theo all that well.”

 

“Well,” Hermione murmured, “actually I came to speak to Harry, but he’s not here…”

 

“Regardless… Theo’s been through something terrible, something he may never recover from fully. We see it sometimes here. Sometimes victims of crimes are completely changed by what they've gone through.” He shuffled a little closer, letting his knee brush against hers, one arm over the back of the sofa, behind her shoulders. “We speak to families of the victims to try and help them, but sometimes the person they once loved is… is just gone.”

 

Hermione looked at him, her eyes red-rimmed and wet. “He's still in there… He has to be, Adrian.”

 

He placed a hand on her leg, smiling comfortingly when she covered his hand with hers. “I know you want to believe it, Hermione,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing, “but sometimes it's just not the case.

 

“Look at how he's been recently. He doesn't look after himself anymore, he rarely goes out, and when he does, he has a very short fuse. He has become reclusive, violent… I'll be honest, I would be nervous if you were still living him. I would worry for your safety.”

 

“He would never hurt me!” she asserted, a spark of her old fire flashing in her eyes.

 

“And I agree, that might have been the case, once upon a time. Now though? We just can't be sure. He's not the same man anymore, is he? Not really.”

 

Hermione groaned and shook her head, slumping back on the seat, feeling Adrian's fingers brush across her hair, slipping beneath it to massage her neck gently. The sensation was pleasant, and she felt herself relax into it a little. “Before Christmas, I had such high hopes for us, I really did. I thought, despite some… setbacks… I thought we were getting somewhere. That he was getting better.”

 

“The press haven't helped, I can tell. Well, I'm sure Mister Shiftly can attest to that,” he said forcing a note of levity into his voice.

 

“I’m glad you told me the truth about your conversations with them; just another thing they’ve blown out of proportion. I knew you wouldn’t have told them we were dating, when it blatantly isn’t the case! That bastard Shiftly deserved a smack in the mouth! Honestly, he's been like a bloodhound this whole year, practically stalking Theo and I. I'm glad Theo punched him! ”

 

“Shiftly is a grade A tosser, that's no lie. But he's not wrong.”

 

Hermione looked up at him, noticing how close he was, how bright his eyes were. She felt a frisson of something chase through her; Adrian had been a great comfort to her this year, always willing to talk, to help. She knew that he had ulterior motives, she wasn't completely blind! He clearly liked her. What did she really feel for him though?

 

“You have been a great comfort to me, Adrian. With Harry so busy, Ron running around after Demelza and being a father. Even Ginny hasn't been able to spare me as much time as I’d have hoped.” She smiled at him, a small blush heating her cheeks as his hand rubbed her neck just a little firmer now. “You've always given me your time and an ear to bend.”

 

He chuckled softly. “It hasn't been a hardship, that I promise you. I've really enjoyed our chats, these moments together.” The hand on her leg slid a little higher, and he drew closer still, his eyes holding hers. “I was serious before, I didn’t tell the press we were dating… but... Look, I know you had to work out what it was you had with Theo, but I’ve always known we would end up here eventually. There’s always been this indefinable…  _ something _ between us…”

 

“Adrian…” she whispered, shaking her head slightly.

 

“I saw it as far back as the International Team, then again that night at the Ministry Ball last year too. You’ve sought me out time and time again, and I have been drawn to you. What else can it be?”

 

“Coincidence! You happened to be at the Ministry that night, and our meeting was completely by chance. You are an Auror that was given the lead role in Theo’s case, so of course, our paths would cross on a regular basis.” She found herself unable to look away from him, even when there was a flicker of movement at the door to Adrian’s office, seen from the corner of her eye.

 

“Some would call it fate, Hermione. Someone more melodramatic than I would even go as far as to say destiny.”

 

“I don’t believe in destiny,” she said, her voice faltering as she wondered who that had been at the door. Had that been Malfoy? Why  _ did _ she and Adrian seem to find themselves like this so often though?

 

“Nor I, yet here we are. Theo has made his feelings clear. He’s cast you aside because he knows he’s not strong enough to be a true partner to you. In a way, he is doing you a favour, pushing you away, so he doesn’t drag you down with him! You deserve someone that will help to lift you up! To support you, to truly love you as you deserve!  _ I _ am that man, Hermione! You  _ know _ it in your heart, you just have to let yourself act on it!”

 

“I can’t abandon Theo, Adrian,” she said, halfheartedly moving away.

 

He followed her, encouraged by her reluctance. “You won’t be. He’s already abandoned you. It’s been so hard to wait, but now, finally...”

 

Then his lips were on hers, soft and tender, but insistent. She tried to pull away but Adrian came with her, and she found herself leant back against the arm of the sofa, her hands pinned between them. Her face heated as his hand slid up to her hip, pulling her closer. She tried to protest but he took her opening mouth as invitation, his tongue sweeping forward to smother hers, her denial sounding more like an encouraging moan.

 

She freed her hands from underneath him and shoved at his shoulders, pushing him away. His eyes were frenzied, filled with passion. “No, Adrian! Stop it!” She squirmed away from him, almost falling off the sofa. She stumbled away, straightening her blouse and refastening a button that he had somehow managed to undo. “I just wanted someone to talk to. This was not what I had in mind!”

 

Adrian was sat still, head bowed, arms on his knees and face in his hands. “Hermione…”

 

“No, stop talking!” she snapped, pacing about the small office, her heart pounding with anger. “There is  _ nothing _ between us, Adrian, and I am sorry if I ever gave you the impression that there ever was. I’m not going to stop until I have my Theo back again. The best thing you can do is forget about being with me, and concentrate on finding out who was helping Stan! Until the bastard is found and locked up Theo is  _ never _ going to find peace! Rather than concentrating on trying to bed me, how about you do your damn job and find the sick bastard who tortured Theo!”

 

~~~

 

“NOTT! Open the door!”

 

The solid door shivered under continued pounding. He hunkered on the lounge floor, trying to ignore it, to control the shakes that wracked his body.

 

“Damn it, Theo! You can’t keep ignoring me like this!”

 

_ He was one of them. The Aurors suspected him above all others. He was here to finish the job! _

 

“Go away, Draco!” he yelled, his voice cracking, even as he cursed himself for giving that stupid, paranoid thought space in his mind.

 

The pounding stopped. “Theo?” His voice was quieter now, a pleading edge to it. He’d never heard Draco talk like that before. “You need to let me in. I just want to talk to you.” There was some unintelligible muttering, almost as if he was arguing with himself. “It’s about Hermione,” he finally said, his tone exasperated.

 

Theo perked up then, staggering to his feet. “What’s happened? Is she okay?” He half staggered, half ran into the hallway, hanging onto the wall to stay upright. He could see the top of Draco’s head in the window at the top of the door, his blond hair almost shining in the sunshine. “Draco? What’s wrong?”

 

“Just open the damn door, I’m not having this conversation with a plank of wood!”

 

“Post your wand through the letterbox.”

 

There was a long pause. “I beg your pardon?” Draco said incredulously.

 

“You’re not coming in armed.”

 

“Theo, this is…” Draco stopped himself. Theo could almost hear the thoughts running through his friend’s head. Theo knew he was being paranoid, ridiculous even; he was sure that Draco was thinking exactly the same, but somehow had managed to stop himself from saying so. That was a first!

 

There was a rattle at the door as the hawthorn wand dropped through the slot and clattered to the floor. Theo snatched it up and backed away again.

 

“There, I’m unarmed. Now, open the door.” His sigh was audible. “Please?”

 

Theo’s brows rose at this, having never heard Draco use the word in that manner before. _ Two firsts in one day _ , he thought, as he reached into the lounge to pluck his wand from the table. Its presence in his hand soothed his nerves and eased the paranoid feeling coursing through him.

 

“I thought you told me that a Malfoy never begs.” He couldn’t stop the slight smile that twitched the corner of his lips 

 

“Fuck you, and open the damn door!”

 

He gave a twitch of his wand, and the lock clicked loudly. Slowly the door swung open and Theo held himself stiff, wand held close to his body, trying not to point it directly at his childhood friend.

 

Draco stood on the top step outside the door, black suit immaculate, hands behind his back in a pose of relaxed formality, his face an impassive mask. The merest twitch of an eyebrow broke the stillness in that mask and only long years of dealing with the pureblood elite allowed Theo to notice it.

 

“I must apologise for my appearance, I was not expecting guests,” he said, his voice as stiff as his posture. “Please, be welcome.”

 

“Thank you, Mister Nott,” said Draco, his head nodding the barest fraction, just short of being an insult. His posture conveyed everything Draco wanted him to see; primarily his disappointment at Theo’s disheveled and unshaven condition, as well as the muted pleasure at being greeted by the head of the household rather than an underling, the slightest hint of a sneer that he was reduced to answering his own door because he  _ had _ no underling to do it for him.

 

Theo’s eyes tightened minutely at the veiled slight.  _ So, _ he thought,  _ we’re doing this, are we? Back to the pissing contest from when we were kids. _

 

“Do make yourself at home, Mister Malfoy,” he said, gesturing for Draco to enter. He couldn’t be too annoyed at the sudden formality, he had started it with his standoffish attitude. “A Happy New Year to you.”

 

“And to you.” Stepping over the threshold, Draco gave the barest hint of a smile; he never could resist trying to one-up Theo when it came to formality. The door closed behind him with a whisper of magic and Theo led the way into the lounge, grimacing at the untidy room. Too late to do anything about it now.

 

“Dear me,” Draco said in a slightly disparaging tone. “A spot of reorganisation? Or was a Nifler set loose to find the maid?”

 

“Have a seat, Mister Malfoy,” Theo said, his tone even, though he burned with quiet anger. “I will prepare us some tea.”

 

“That would be most pleasant, thank you. I’ll just see if I can find a clear spot...”

 

Theo caught a glimpse of Draco's face, an unguarded grimace and look of sorrow flashing across the pointed features as he looked around the room. Keeping a grip on his emotions, Theo went into the kitchen through the archway, only a slight limp to his gait. He quickly set the kettle boiling and the teapot warming, doing the job manually, not trusting his magic to obey him fully. His bad leg was trembling, and he leant against the counter to support himself.

 

_ Damn Malfoy, I don’t need his pity! _

 

“Gorky!”

 

Theo growled under his breath as he heard Draco shout the name of his house-elf. There was a sharp crack as the creature appeared.

 

“Master Draco called?” the elf squeaked.

 

“Yes,” Draco drawled lazily, “see if you can assist my good friend, Mister Nott. He has been neglecting his home, and it needs a bit of a spruce up. There’s a good elf.”

 

Theo bowed his head, grinding his teeth, as he heard Malfoy’s steps coming closer. “I can manage my own house,  Mister Malfoy,” he spat.

 

Draco lounged against the kitchen island, a smirk on his face. “Of course you can, old boy, but a tidy house lends itself to a tidy mind. I do dislike seeing your mind in such… disarray.”

 

“‘Disarray’?” Theo said, his voice dangerously low.

 

“Nothing a good house-elf can't sort out, of course.”

 

“Yes, and I'm sure Tinky would have managed perfectly well if she hadn't been killed by Voldemort to make a point to my father! Why are you here, Mister Malfoy? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Hermione’s gone, so you don’t have to come up with any more snide remarks.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, old chum. Last time earned me a black eye.”

 

Theo felt his neck heat a little at the quiet rebuke. “If I have neglected to do so, I apologise, unreservedly, for my actions that night.” He knew damn well he hadn’t apologised, and there was a flicker of a smile on Draco’s lips.

 

“Not a problem. Apology accepted, Theo. Let’s speak no more about that, yes?”

 

Theo nodded and Malfoy visibly relaxed; dropping the honourific indicated a lowering of formality, and Theo breathed a small sigh, hidden by the squealing of the kettle as it began to boil.

 

“Still drinking it like a heathen, Draco?” he quipped.

 

“I still find it bitter and unpalatable without, so yes, milk and one sugar, please.”

 

Theo gave a snort of laughter, preparing Draco’s drink, leaving his own black. Walking carefully over to the island he noted Draco’s body language as he perched on the bar stool; his mouth worried at the side of one finger, his eyes were fixed on a point to one side of the kitchen, one foot jiggled on the stool’s cross support. Hurriedly Theo put the two cups down, already feeling his chest grow tight, his breathing shallow.

 

“Why so nervous, Draco?” he said, stepping away and placing the island worktop between them. His eyes measured the distance between Malfoy and the knife block, sat in the centre. Blood pounded in his ears as he met his friend’s eyes, seeing  _ them _ flick to the knife block too.

 

Everything swayed, his vision blackening at the edges. There was a sharp pain in his head, and the room spun.

 

“Theo? Merlin, Theo! Are you okay?”

 

Malfoy was stood over him and the nervous face of Gorky the house-elf was close by, the latter holding one of Hermione’s old magazines and fanning him frantically with it. He was lying on the floor, with no knowledge of how he got there!

 

“What… what happened?” Theo mumbled, his throat feeling thick, and his head fuzzy.

 

“‘What happened’? You fucking passed out, and smacked your head on the counter on the way down!”

 

“That explains the headache,” Theo groaned, sitting up while Gorky quietly made a fuss of him. “I’m fine, Gorky, back off,” Theo grumbled, waving the elf away, trying to hold his head together with one hand.

 

The elf backed away, wringing his hands and glancing at Draco. He waved one hand lazily, dismissing the elf back to Malfoy Manor. Gorky vanished with a sharp crack and a last, nervous look at Theo.

 

“I thought I had passed the panic attack stage,” Theo said, accepting Draco’s hand and being hauled to his feet.

 

“Why do you continue to think like them?” Draco muttered, keeping hold of Theo’s hand tightly. “The Auror’s watch me, day and night. They’re tracking where I go, who I’m with… Pucey thinks I personally masterminded everything that happened to you, just because Stan was a friend. Bastard’s out to pin this all on me, even though he has nothing but circumstantial evidence. And then  _ you _ freak out on me because I happen to be a near a fucking knife!” Draco closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “You were lying there, moaning, and asking me to let you go… or let you die!”

 

Theo tried to pull his hand away again, but Draco was insistent. “Malfoy, please let go…”

 

“No,” Draco said through gritted teeth, “I am going to say this just once more: I had  _ nothing _ to do with your kidnapping! On my honour as a Malfoy, may I be stripped of my land and wealth should my word prove false!”

 

“Take the Vow?” Theo said blithely, his heart pounding but trying to cover it with bravado.

 

“If you insisted, yes, though it would damage our friendship irrevocably should you do so!”

 

“I wouldn't. I'm sorry for saying that, Draco.”

 

“It's fine,” he said, waving away Theo's words. He gripped Theo's hand insistently, his thumb stroking over the back of it. Drawing a deep breath, he looked into Theo's eyes. “Listen, I hate seeing you like this. You wallow in pity and your own filth, like a commoner. You let that despicable twat, Pucey, waltz off with your witch. You are  _ more _ than this, Theo, you always have been. You're the dearest friend I've ever had. More than a brother. I…” Draco swallowed then, his throat closing up on him. “I love you, Theo. More than a friend. I always have done, but it's not something a pureblood heir can admit to, nor act on… Not if he wishes to save face in our society…”

 

Theo stared at Draco, stunned. “Draco… I…”

 

“No, just shut up and let me say this! I don't care about saving face anymore.” He lifted his hand and cupped Theo's cheek. Theo was too surprised to move away. “I only ever cared for you, wanted you. That's why I tried to undermine your relationship so often; I was jealous of her… And for that, I am truly sorry.”

 

Theo tried to speak again. He had seen some of the looks Draco had given him over the years, the way he spoke to him sometimes, but this? He had never imagined  _ this _ ! “Why now?” he finally managed. “After all this time, after everything I've been through? You've had  _ years _ to tell me this, Draco. Why choose my lowest point?”

 

Draco grimaced as Theo snatched his hand away at last. “I don't know, alright?” he cried. “When the hell is a good time to confess you're in love with your best friend? I was scared to ruin what we have!”

 

“So what's changed? Why would  _ now _ be better than when I was in a happier place?”

 

“Because I can see you pulling away from everyone! You're withdrawing further every day, letting people walk all over you, losing your cool with bloody reporters! Letting Pucey get exactly what he’s been trying to get since before you went missing. You know he’s had his eye on her for ages! He’s got her already, really; I just saw them together, looking very cosy. I don't say this to hurt you, Theo. I want you to know that you're not alone. That I'm here, with you,  _ for _ you.”

 

“I've been a complete idiot,” Theo muttered, turning away and leaning against the counter, punching the wood. “This isn't me, it’s not who I am! This is that stupid paranoia that keeps me awake at night, makes me see shadows everywhere. I thought I would be better after getting rid of my father's wand, getting another. Clearly it was not an instant fix. Even knowing that this one is… No matter. I've driven her into the arms of another man.”

 

“I want to help you, Theo.” He placed his hand on Theo’s shoulder.

 

Theo turned back, staring into the grey eyes, normally so cold and calculating, now filled with softness and vulnerability. Draco slipped his hands under Theo’s arms, curving around his waist, pulling him closer. Theo held out his hands, gently pushing his friend away. “Draco, listen… I love you too, you know that. But not like that.”

 

Draco’s expression didn't change, but it was like a mask slipped over his face, his eyes immediately becoming blank once more. His hands dropped back to his sides. “I see.”

 

“You are my oldest, and dearest friend. But my heart belongs to Hermione. It always will. I have to go to her, to make this right!”

 

He limped away then, heading quickly to grab his coat and slip into his shoes. His mind was still reeling from the bump and Draco’s confession. He remembered the calendar though; Hermione was supposed to be at a function at the Ministry, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember what for. He had completely put Draco out of his mind until he heard him speak again, close behind him.

 

“Theo…”

 

He paused, half out the front door already, turning his head to see Draco in the hall behind him.

 

“Don't go to her,” Draco said quietly. “She's already made her choice. Make yours… choose me, please?”

 

“I can’t... I’m sorry.” He closed the door behind him and set off at a shambling run. He didn't dare use Apparition, his head was scrambled, and Draco's last words hadn't helped; his kidnapper had talked about Hermione and choices too.

 

~~~

 

Theo stepped out of the lift and into the corridor outside Hermione’s flat. He took a moment to look around, alert for danger, or reporters. He hadn’t been here for a while, but nothing had really changed; Mister Balshaw in the flat two doors down had replaced his doormat with a more jovial one for Christmas, but other than that…

 

Hermione’s door was slightly ajar.

 

A cold sweat broke out over Theo’s body. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, as he stumbled forward. “No. No, no, no, no!”

 

Shouldering the door open, wand in hand, he knew what he would find; Hermione, sat in her lounge, watching the Muggle television, probably one of those game shows she enjoyed; or reading a book in her comfy chair, surrounded by her piles of research, a dark smudge on her cheek from where she absentmindedly daubed herself with ink while thinking. She would look up at him in surprise, his name on her beautiful lips, eyes wide. She would stand in a rush, spilling whatever was in her lap to the floor.

 

“ _ Lumos _ !” His eyes narrowed against the light, desperate for them to adjust.

 

She hadn’t been at the Ministry event. Hadn’t cancelled or sent an owl to say she would be late either. He had burst into the Auror office, looking for Adrian or Harry, finding only Roberts and Dawlish sat at their desks.

 

“Theo!” Roberts said, so surprised to see him he had used his first name for the first time since he had known the man.

 

“Hermione!” Theo said urgently.

 

“She’s not here,” Roberts said, standing up and moving towards him. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

 

Dawlish was standing now too, concern in his eyes. “She was ‘ere an ‘our or so ago, talkin’ to Pucey.”

 

“Where did she go afterwards?” Theo said, his hands gripped into fists. “Did they leave together?”

 

Roberts glanced at Dawlish uncomfortably. “We don’t know, Mister Nott. We had to act as security to an official arriving from America. When we got back, they were gone.”

 

Theo swore violently, stumbling from the room and heading for the exit, his hip on fire with the pain of his exertion. Ten minutes later saw him standing in Hermione’s hallway, clutching onto the door frame as his knees weakened.

 

With a shaking hand, he stooped and picked up Hermione’s wand. The vine wood was splintered, cracked along one side. He could see the white fibrous heartstring core poking through the splits. She had told him about recovering her wand from the Malfoys, after the war. How Lucius had been ordered to hand over all Dark items and anything they had seized as well. This had included Hermione’s wand; after using Bellatrix’s wand for a few weeks, she had joked that recovering her own had almost become her new Patronus memory.

 

He felt his new wand almost vibrate at the closeness of its twin. Maybe it could be repaired.

 

He moved down the hallway, trying not to disturb anything, knowing the Aurors would need to see this. He shouldn’t be here, disturbing the scene, but he had to know…

 

His hand shook, the light from his wand trembling across the walls, part of him noting the space where a picture had hung last time he was here; the frame sat on the floor, face down. He could see little splinters of glass, scattered across the carpet and around the frame.

 

He had expected to catch them in the act. He had expected to have his heart ripped out and stamped on by seeing them together. He did not expect to see her sofa overturned, the pictures on her mantlepiece smashed on the floor.

 

He was back there in an instant, tied to that chair, fighting for his life and struggling for each breath.

 

He slumped to his knees, feeling the horrible tightness in his chest, the blurring at the edge of his vision. He could almost feel someone sneaking up behind him, a hessian sack held ready, a knife in their hand, a Curse on their lips; Stan, risen from the grave to finish what he had started, Pucey, Malfoy, and Hermione at his side.

 

He clutched his chest, heart stuttering and leaping as his mind gave up and shut down.

  
  


**End of Part 3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of Part 4 will be posted on Monday 8th October


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4:

**Prologue:**

 

_ The dark-skinned man’s hands were warm and gentle, but still, she tried to flinch away. Instinct was stronger than her pain. He made shushing noises as she struggled, but she knew there were several bones within her that were broken and she couldn’t fight him off. _

 

_ She felt herself lifted from the concrete floor, cradled gently. He carried her across the room, every slight movement causing her agony. She cried out at each stabbing pain, and he made soothing noises to her. He cared, this man holding her… it was a strange thought and she was so confused. _

 

_ She saw the room around her, dusty and dim, lit only by the other people gathered there. _

 

_ Another man was laid out on the ground; dark hair matted with liquid. There was a strong coppery smell in the air. The man was not moving. He already smelt like death. _

 

_ She realised there was fire. It sent a thrill of fear through her, but the man holding her simply tightened his grip. She had to get away, despite the pain. Smoke was already filling the ceiling. It was only a matter of time before she choked on it! _

 

_ Another man approached, his face streaked with blood. He had grey eyes and hair like the sun. He was saying something, angrily gesturing at the man holding her. He, in turn, said something back, his voice rumbling through her frame; he seemed to be arguing with the pale-haired man. There were tears in the dark eyes. _

 

_ She wished she could hear properly, but the damage caused to her had severely affected her senses. She watched, weakly twitching in the dark man's arms, as the other lifted his hand and pointed something at her. _

 

_ His face twisted in something like a smile, and then a blast of coloured light filled her vision. _

 

_ It blotted out the world. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 will be posted on Thursday 11th October


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4: Chapter 1

The sharp sting on Theo's face roused him.

 

“Wake up, you bastard!” Pucey was yelling at him, holding onto the collar of his coat and shaking him. “What have you done to Hermione? Where is she?”

 

His head rocked to the side, his other cheek alive with the burn of a second slap. His head swam, throbbed, his thoughts slow and disjointed. Another strike made him shout, focusing him at last.

 

“Get off me!” Theo yelled, shoving Adrian’s hands away from him and backing away across the floor. Head aching, he looked around rapidly, seeing it was still dark; was it the same day? How long had he been out?

 

“Ease up, Adrian, let him breathe! Take a walk!”

 

Adrian turned away with a snarl, shoving past Harry as he came forward and offered a hand to Theo. Hauling him up, Harry gave Theo a stern look. “What happened, Theo?”

 

“How about you tell me what I’ve missed?”

 

Harry shook his head, his eyes hardening. “No. Not going to work like that, Nott. We find you, unconscious in Hermione’s flat, looking like there was some kind of fight? It's too familiar. I want some answers first!”

 

“So do I!” yelled Adrian from the other room, his footsteps coming closer again. “You come storming into the office, demanding to know where Hermione is, acting unstable and prone to violence. Then, worried for her safety after hearing about this, Harry and I come straight to her home to find it turned over and you unconscious on the living room floor! I'll ask you one more time; what have you done with her?”

 

“Pucey!” Harry barked, pushing the Auror away. “Back off! Go outside and cool off!”

 

“How the hell are you so calm, Potter? Your best friend is missing, and Nott here is still on the scene!”

 

“I've seen nothing to indicate Theo is guilty of anything other than being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Yet.”

 

Harry held Pucey's furious gaze until the older man gave a growl of disbelief and stalked out. When they were alone, he turned back to Theo, who was stood still, fists clenched. A tendon was standing aggravated from his jaw.

 

“Okay, Theo. Tell me what happened.”

 

Theo exhaled shakily and began to tell Harry about the events of earlier. He avoided Draco's confession, only saying that he had visited him and told him about Adrian making moves on Hermione.

 

“Shit, what a mess,” Harry muttered when Theo finished. “So you think it was a panic attack?”

 

Theo nodded curtly. “Second one today.”

 

“Okay, go home.”

 

“But, I…”

 

“Go. Home. This is a crime scene for now until we get to the bottom of things. I'm pretty sure it wasn't you, but Pucey has other ideas. I'll bring you in to have a more in-depth chat later.”

 

“What will you do about Pucey?”

 

“Do? Nothing. We'll work the scene, gather evidence, and see if we can get ahead of this thing.”

 

“What if it's…?” Theo's throat closed up, thinking about what could be happening to Hermione.

 

“If it's the person who took you, then there will be similarities. We can work with that, but for now, go home.”

 

“I found her wand,” Theo said, handing the splintered wood to Harry. “Harry, I want to help.”

 

“You'll get your chance. Just…” Harry gave a wry grin. “Just don't leave town, yeah?”

 

~~~

 

He looked up as Harry pushed open the door to the Auror office. Seeing Theo, sat on the chair outside his office, Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m sure I said ‘home’, Theo, meaning _your_ home. Not mine.”

 

“Your office is your home?”

 

“Near as damn it, these days,” Harry muttered.

 

“Did you really expect me to sit at home and wait for news? What did she do when I went missing?” Theo gave a tight grin, already knowing the answer.

 

“Fell asleep on my sofa, waiting for news,” Harry said with a smile. “Touché. Come on in, and I’ll bring you up to speed.”

 

Without asking Harry poured two glasses of firewhisky. The decanters were in a small alcove, hidden behind Harry’s framed Defence Against the Dark Arts 'Outstanding’ OWL certificate. Theo accepted the glass gratefully and swallowed half the liquid with a slight grimace.

 

“So,” Harry said, sipping the amber liquid. “I think this may be one of the only times we've talked alone. It's always been in a social setting before now.”

 

“Not exactly the best circumstances,” Theo said with a sour twist to his lips.

 

“I'll give you that,” Harry said, sitting at his desk. “Alright, let's get to the point. It's very similar to your kidnapping; no sign of forced entry, property in disarray, residue of magic that we have identified as Apparition, indicating she was taken away against her will.”

 

Theo slumped back, lifting a trembling hand to his mouth.

 

“There wasn't any blood though, so that's something, I guess.” Harry grimaced slightly.

 

“What's the plan? How can I help?”

 

“I have some questions, some things I want to run past you. After that? Seriously, this time. Go home!” Harry drained his glass, hissing at the burn in his throat. “We're making enquiries, gathering information. I'm giving this my personal attention, taking lead.”

 

“Nice to see you have time for Hermione,” Theo muttered, a little petulantly.

 

Harry inclined his head. “Look, you know I'd have…”

 

“It's fine, sorry. That was crass of me. I know you'll do everything you can for her.”

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Come in!”

 

Adrian poked his head around the door, his eyes tightening with annoyance at seeing Theo sat there. “Potter, Malfoy's here.”

 

Theo returned Adrian's glare, while Harry stood. “Send him in,” he said, “and you can stay too Adrian. We need to get this thrashed out now before things go further.”

 

Malfoy breezed past Pucey without a glance. His impassive face registered a moment of surprise at seeing Theo. “Nott,” he said, a cold edge to his voice.

 

“Draco,” Theo said, standing and moving to his friend. “I'm glad you're here. You've got to help me… us! We need to find her.”

 

“You mean Granger?” Malfoy sneered. “And why would I do that?”

 

Theo almost recoiled from the venom in Draco's eyes. “Draco… I'm asking you, as a friend, as my oldest friend!”

 

“I think I'll pass, Nott, old boy.” Malfoy smiled nastily. “Thank you for the offer though.”

 

“Why, Malfoy? Got somewhere more important to be?” Adrian spat, moving forward and grabbing Draco by the arm. “Need to make sure your prisoner's all tied up still?”

 

Malfoy threw off Adrian's hand. “Watch your mouth, Pucey!”

 

“This has just been a big game to you, hasn't it?” Adrian snarled. “I told you he was involved!” This was directed at Harry, who was watching the exchange, a suspicious look in his eyes.

 

“And I still say you're an idiot!” snapped Malfoy. “You've still not given a decent reason why. In all these months, you keep saying 'he did it’, but haven't once come up with a shred of evidence that I did anything!”

 

“I don't need evidence to know you were involved!”

 

“Oh, the great fucking detective speaks! Quick everyone, let's lock people up because they have a past!”

 

“Enough!” Harry said.

 

“I should have kept you in Azkaban from the moment I knew it was you! Maybe then Hermione would be safe.” Pucey's face matched his name, getting darker by the second.

 

“And what about you?” Theo snapped. “You've got a perfect motive, Adrian. Rejected as a paramour, unwanted attentions finally making her realise what a sleaze you really are? Perfect motive to kidnap a girl and try to force her to be yours!” Theo's breath was tight in his chest, visualising exactly what could be happening to Hermione.

 

“Don't make me laugh, Nott! You've done nothing but push her away since I pulled your arse out of that stinking warehouse! You've hurt her, reviled her, and made her feel less than the damned precious woman she is!”

 

“That's enough!” Harry roared, slamming his hand on the desk. “Nott, Malfoy, sit! Pucey, get out of here.”

 

“Potter…” Adrian began, turning hate-filled eyes his way.

 

“I don't want to hear it, Adrian! This is a shitty time, and we need clear heads. Get out, take a lap of the building or something. Get a drink, if you want, just get out of my office. Now!”

 

Pucey snarled, glaring at Theo before shaking his finger at Harry. “This isn't over! Malfoy is guilty as sin, and you're wasting time talking when he should be strung up and made to talk!”

 

“She's not your girlfriend, Adrian.” Harry's quiet words cut through the room. “Right now she's a missing person, and screaming blue murder at Malfoy and Nott isn't getting anywhere. We're all worried about her.” He ignored Malfoy's quiet scoff, though Theo levelled a furious glare Draco’s way. “We will find her, I promise you that.”

 

Adrian cast one last tight-lipped glare at the others, Theo and Draco keeping their expressions perfectly neutral, before turning and slamming the door behind him.

 

Theo and Draco exchanged a quick glance. What Theo saw in those grey eyes confused him, though he kept his own face blank.

 

“Draco, I asked you to come in because you were part of the team when Theo was taken.” Harry poured Draco a firewhisky before sitting down at his desk again. “You were under suspicion, and to be perfectly frank, there are still questions where not all the pieces seem to fit.”

 

“Such as?” Malfoy asked with a bored expression.

 

“Why Stan had pictures of Theo from before Hogwarts. Why you seemed determined to be as obstructive to Adrian's enquiries as possible.”

 

“Stan was a friend. Despite his regrettable lack of magic, he was still a pureblood, and a good friend of mine when I was young. When Voldemort outed him as a Squib, his family rejected him, but he was still a friend. Before that, his family was an ally of both the Notts and the Malfoys. He visited both houses with his family regularly.”

 

“Okay, and your own attitude?”

 

“Pucey seemed more determined to make a name for himself than listen to his colleagues. He was closed minded to many suggestions by myself, and others. Even the rookie came up with some ideas that seemed halfway decent, but Pucey was dismissive.”

 

“Roberts?”

 

“Do we have any other green Aurors?”

 

Harry ignored the sarcasm. “Fine. I'll have a word with Darryl later.” He sighed. “I can't reinstate you officially until everything is settled. You're still being put on administrative leave until then, but we could really do with your help, unofficially.”

 

“You want me to put myself out? For her?”

 

Theo swallowed the words that threatened to roar from his mouth at Malfoy’s dismissive tone. Instead, he managed, “How about for me?”

 

“For old time’s sake? Don't make me laugh, Nott!”

 

“You two-faced son of a bitch!” Theo surged to his feet, incensed beyond reason. His chair fell to the floor as he grabbed Malfoy by the collar and hauled him to his feet. “After everything? You would let me face this by myself, knowing what that bastard is going to do to her?”

 

Malfoy struck Theo's hands, knocking them away from him. Shoving Theo hard, he knocked him back to stumble over the fallen chair and tumble to the ground. “If I knew who it was who had her I'd offer tips on how to make her squeal!”

 

“Hey!” Harry yelled, striding around the desk and getting hold of Malfoy himself. “This is Hermione we're talking about. My best friend! So watch your tone and what you say, or I'll follow Pucey's advice and have you locked in a cell faster than you can blink!”

 

“I have nothing further to say to either of you. If you want to do it because I happened to badmouth someone, then do it. I don't have time for idle threats.”

 

The two stood that way for some time, locked in a staring contest. Neither was going to back down, so Theo stood and cleared his throat. “We're getting nowhere like this, Potter. Like you said, screaming at each other isn't helping Hermione.”

 

“Fine,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. “Get out of my sight, Malfoy!”

 

“With pleasure,” Draco drawled, straightening his suit jacket. Casting a last glance at Theo he turned, threw open the door and strode out.

 

The crash of the door striking the wall made Theo wince, the sound too reminiscent of the door to the warehouse. The place his mind dwelled often.

 

Harry dropped into his seat and ran a tired hand through his hair. Theo straightened his own chair and sat, head in his hands for a moment, rubbing tired eyes.

 

“Okay, Theo. Let's talk about the last day or so.”

 

~~~

 

It had maybe been half an hour or so since Malfoy had stormed out of the office and the two men had been working through the current theories the Auror team had. There was very little doubt that this was the same attacker. Maybe only a minute chance that it was a copycat case.

 

“I need to go through your movements over the last day or so, then hopefully we can get rid of any doubts that this was your doing.”

 

Theo grimaced. “Well, that isn't a long conversation to be had, Potter. Since the Shiftly incident on Boxing Day, I... well, I haven't been out.”

 

“You haven't left the house for a week?”

 

“No.”

 

“Right. Can anyone confirm that?”

 

“Well, Malfoy has tried to visit me daily, since before Christmas, but I wouldn't open the door. Not until yesterday.”

 

“I see.” Harry's glance was now full of concern. “And these panic attacks? Have they happened a lot?”

 

“Not since I shut myself away, no. Two today though. Seems I have an issue when I'm around people, on many levels; panic, anger and I'm sure there are others.” He sighed miserably.

 

“Theo, it's normal that something like you went through will cause you to view many things differently. Have you thought of speaking to someone? Talking all this through? You know, a doctor?”

 

Theo chuckled wryly. “You sound just like Hermione. My issue is trust, Harry. I can't trust anyone. This attacker... he knew things, things he shouldn't have known. Or said things that have left me doubting everyone I know and love. Merlin, Draco came round earlier, and I passed out in fear because he was sat too near a knife block! That's not rational.”

 

“It is if he's a suspect, Theo, and his attitude towards everything does little to help him to be rid of that title.”

 

“As hurtful as that little bastard can be most of the time, both you and I know him, Harry. He’s a shit, and when he's hurt or pissed off, he goes out of his way to offend. I don't seriously believe that he would have anything to do with this.” He smirked. “On the days where I am being rational, at least.”

 

“I seriously think, aside from what's happening right now, you would benefit from speaking with someone.”

 

“I know. I will. But first, we need to find the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. That's if I haven't already lost her to someone else.”

 

“You haven't, of that I am sure. Hermione is strong, one of the strongest women I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I've known a few. But this year... it's the first time I've seen her come close to breaking. She lost a lot, you both did, and she had to do it almost totally by herself. I have to admit her friends, myself included, have found it difficult to support her at a time when we should have all dropped everything.”

 

“Don't beat yourself up, Harry. People's lives don't stop because of tragedy. Hermione has a habit of soldiering on and not asking for help. You all have responsibilities of your own, and people have their own life-changing events happening. Neither she or I will hold that against you, any of you. I do worry though that someone is sending your team off on wild goose chases.”

 

“You and me both, Nott. I'll be overseeing this investigation personally now that the American issue has been resolved. Ministry edicts be damned.”

 

“Pansy will be pleased by that, I suspect,” Theo said with a grin.

 

Harry smirked. “Thank you for your kind words, but I'm sure it's meant to be me reassuring you.”

 

Theo stood and reached his hand out to shake Harry’s. “I meant it, and for the first time since I have been back, I finally have some clarity and focus on everything. I'm going to start repairing some bridges. I'm going to go and see the Grangers.”

 

Harry shook the hand offered to him. “I visited them briefly, they know what's happened but nothing more. Good luck, and try and stay out of trouble yeah?”

 

The two men chuckled.

 

“Keep me up to date, please?” Theo asked as he headed for the door.

 

“I will.”

 

Harry heaved a tired sigh as the other man shut the door behind him. He rubbed his tired face with his hands just as the fire roared into life.

 

Roberts’ head appeared in the ornate fireplace. “The apartment has been fully swept, boss.”

 

“And?” Harry asked hopefully.

 

“Completely clean this time, boss. Nothing, not even a button.”

 

Harry sighed again. “Thanks, Roberts, you can clock off. Back here, seven am please.”

 

Roberts nodded, and the fire disappeared. Harry collapsed back into his chair. Alone at last, the thought of his best friend suffering at the hands of Theo’s torturer caused the tears to fall.

 

~~~

 

He stood nervously at the front door. The last time he had seen them he had been screaming at their daughter in a blind rage. He had seen the Granger’s only a handful of times since his rescue. He hadn't wanted to see anyone, but Hermione had insisted. Their last visit had been more stilted and awkward than any before it. Theo hadn't wanted to engage with anyone, and even his love for the Grangers hadn't been enough to pull him out. Merlin, his love for _Hermione_ hadn't been enough.

 

He was ashamed of himself.

 

He had been on the doorstep now for ten minutes, trying to steel his nerves. Just as he was about to lift the knocker, the front door was pulled open.

 

“Waiting for you to knock is painful, boy,” Robert said gruffly. “Get in here.”

 

“Oh, I... Hello, Mister Granger,” he sputtered and nodded as Robert Granger offered the open door. Pushing himself to step over the threshold he was flooded with the memory of one of their Sunday afternoons spent here; family, food, and familiarity. He had never thought he would have a family like this. So warm and welcoming, no pomp or pureblood etiquette to worry about.

 

The Grangers’ home was warm and welcoming: less cluttered than the Weasley’s, but it shared the same homely feel.

 

Before he could ponder anymore, Jean came out of the kitchen. Her eyes were red from crying, and when she saw Theo the tears started to flow again.

 

“Oh, Theo!” she cried and pulled him into a hug.

 

He couldn't help it, the cries burst from him, and they stood there in the dark hallway sharing their grief. Through his own grief, he could hear Robert behind them, his cries quieter but still there.

 

Sometime later the trio was sat in the living room. A sombre mood enveloped them. With mugs of hot tea in their hands and Robert sat with his free arm around his wife, he spoke.

 

“Theo, is it the same person? Harry wasn't able to tell us much earlier.”

 

“T...they believe so, yes.” He had to hold back the raw emotion he was feeling. The thought of that evil touching his beautiful, thoughtful girlfriend filled his heart with an ice cold dread. The memory of pain, fear, and hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him.

 

“If it is, how much danger is she in, Theo? Hermione would never tell us the full story of what happened, or the full extent of your injuries, beyond what we can see. Our daughter continues to think we can't handle things.”

 

Theo pointedly looked at Jean and then back to Robert. “It's not good, Robert. The Aurors need to get out quickly. She cannot go through what...” He trailed off. They did not need to hear it. “I want to apologise... for my behaviour over the last few weeks. It's been appalling, and I'm not surprised if you wouldn't want me anywhere near your daughter ever again.”

 

It was Jean’s turn to pipe up.

 

“You are a silly boy, Theo. Our love for you and Hermione far outweighs any poor behaviour. We have been hurting alongside our daughter whilst you were missing and alongside you both when you returned. Your experience doesn't define you, Theo, unless you let it. But you also need to deal with everything, the trauma that your body and mind went through. It has hurt to see you push Hermione away and everyone else who wants to help you. But I understand it.

 

“You forget, young man, we watched our daughter fix herself after the war. The story that everyone hears or sees is the one where Voldemort is destroyed, and the war is won. That was never going to be the end of the story.

 

“They talk about the casualties of war, but that isn't just the poor souls who lost their lives. That's the broken families left behind, the friends who fought together and faced the prospect of never seeing each other again, living with the torture of the war haunting their every dream or nightmare. The scars that remain are a physical reminder of what happened to you.

 

“Our daughter is an incredibly strong woman, but she is still human. Those fears, nightmares, and reminders leave behind a legacy. Whether you want that or not. We helped pick up those pieces, watched her thrive in her working life but remain alone or unhappy within her personal life. Until you.

 

“You fixed her, Theo. Because she let you. When she returns, you need to let her fix you. Or maybe through this, you will fix each other.”

 

Theo sat there speechless, but after a moment he dropped to his knees before her, this lovely woman who was the older, wiser version of Hermione, and wrapped her in his arms.

 

“Thank you. I've missed this, without even realising it. I've let the darkness overwhelm me.”

 

Robert piped up. “That, my boy, is understandable, but the real victory is pushing past it and letting go your fear. Otherwise, for the rest of your life, that bastard has won.”

 

They spent a few more hours talking, and when Jean tired and bid them goodnight, Robert started with the awkward questions again.

 

“What did he do to you, Theo? What might he do to my little girl?”

 

“Robert, I…”

 

“Look, my daughter thinks I didn't see you at your worst. I did. I begged the nice young Auror to let me in one evening when she was home having a shower. You were in some state, young man. Missing teeth, cuts and scars covering you, and looking like some war-torn orphan who hadn't eaten for months.”

 

“What you saw is what happened to me. I didn't know you saw that.”

 

“I know you didn't. That was the whole point. But this is obviously personal. Is this Death Eaters? Someone that has a point to make? He lost you so now is after another way to hurt you?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine. Ever since I was taken, I have been trying to figure this out. I don't think I ever believed it was the man they said it was. I was attacked both in a non-magical way, but also with magic so it could not have been him. Or at the very least, not _just_ him. Hopefully, with Harry on this now it will be resolved much quicker. I can't lose her.”

 

The two men fell into an uneasy silence. Both lost in their thoughts about Hermione and what possible hell she could be suffering through.

 

When Theo finally collapsed into his bed later that night, he felt a small glimmer of hope after his evening with the Granger’s. They had brought him out of his black hole just a little bit. So much so that he could feel his old self fighting to win over the darkness.

 

However as sleep overtook his exhausted mind, his dreams drifted into nightmares as his worst fears and the unspoken questions from Robert played out in front of him: Hermione chained and being taken against her will.

 

He couldn't see the face of her attacker, no matter how much he tried to. He fought against invisible restraints that refused his attempts to save her.

 

He yelled out, and the attacker turned, an evil smirk gracing the features of the face he knew so well, those grey eyes steelike in their menace. A knife was in his hand as he grinned at Theo, before turning and slamming it into Hermione’s chest.

 

He awoke with a roar, cold sweat covering him as he panted, his breath stolen from him at the shock of the dream.

 

He hoped it was just a nightmare, but he slept no more that night.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 will post Sunday 14th October


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4: Chapter 2

A few days had passed since his visit to the Grangers and his time had been mostly spent pacing his house. Harry had told him he would be in contact as soon as he had news, and Theo respected that he would, but it had been four days, and he barely heard a peep.

 

It was unsettling. He was beginning to appreciate what Hermione had suffered through. Another more cerebral form of torture.

 

He spoke to the Grangers via Hermione’s mobile every day and took great comfort from this contact without having to leave the house. 

 

He had incinerated every Prophet that had landed on the table after the first one, post Hermione's kidnap, which had announced her disappearance, declared that Theo was personally responsible, and held the ‘exclusive’ interview with her ‘is he, isn't he’ love, Adrian Pucey.

 

He knew he should ignore the press: they were anti-Theo after his attack on old Shiftly, and out for blood. Some of the headlines, especially those written by Shiftly himself, made out that he was worse than Voldemort. Quite farcical. 

 

He couldn't help the flash of pain he felt though, like the knife he had felt pierce him so many times, every time he read or heard a comment about her and Pucey.

 

He wanted to believe it wasn't true; her parents certainly didn't believe it, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.

 

His feelings about Draco had changed as well. 

 

The nightmare had haunted him every night, each time facing someone else; Potter, Roberts, Pucey, but at some point, every time, Malfoy’s face would appear before he awoke covered in sweat with a cry of horror.

 

It was sending him crazy.

 

Tonight he debated even allowing himself to fall asleep, so afraid he was of seeing that same dream again and the burning grey eyes of his supposed best friend, piercing him with an evil smirk on his face.

 

To pass the time and to try and distract himself from thinking the worst he had cleaned his house to within an inch of its life, finding comfort in having a purpose when he otherwise felt like a spare part. 

 

Useless. He wasn't used to feeling this way. He was fighting the darkness, the lure of feeling sorry for himself and wallowing. The intense anger he felt when he thought of anyone hurting his love had intensified. His emotions certainly hadn't stabilised.

 

He wanted... No,  _ needed _ a purpose again. He couldn't help in finding Hermione, and he had been told in no uncertain terms by Harry that he was not an Auror, and unless he could shed any more light on his kidnapper, he didn't think a civilian should get any more involved than he already had been.

 

It didn't help that the mood against Theo had turned ugly, thanks to the papers. Poor Quincy had been egged by someone as he had delivered a message to Harry; whoever it was hadn't been caught, but the little owl refused to leave the house now.

 

Harry had told Theo to just keep his head down for now; he didn't want anything to happen to Theo because of someone stupid. He promised that he was keeping the Weasleys up to date, and that he would update Theo by Floo as soon as he had something solid.

 

That didn't last long, however, as Theo received a number of abusive Floo calls, as well as several Howlers about Hermione, all from random people all over the country. One person had even tried to invade Theo's home via the Floo! Luckily Harry had someone monitoring the network, and the Auror on duty had arrived to remove the invader before she had done any damage.

 

Theo disconnected his fire from the Floo network after that; he didn't want to be a nuisance or distraction to the Auror team. They needed to focus.

 

He couldn't work yet as the doctors hadn't signed him back to full fitness. The thought of trying to go into the office with things the way they were was scary, but he had found some of his old paperwork, lying around in a draw, from just before his kidnapping. Maybe that would help focus his mind and calm his fried nerves. 

 

When life was dealing him lemons, his work had always been his saviour. Until Hermione had come along, that was. Their shared passion in their work had been refreshing to him, that and she was all the saviour he needed.

 

It was something to ponder, at least, and a welcome distraction to avoid his mind returning to imagining the worst for his girlfriend. Lack of sleep, constant nightmares, and an intense worry did little for sanity, but maybe this would help.

 

This morning Blaise had appeared on his doorstep which had been a fantastic surprise for him. The pair had chatted for a while before his friend had to go again, but the visit had done wonders for Theo's nerves; the Weasleys didn't hate him and knew he wasn't responsible, but there was still no substantial news.

 

After Blaise left, Theo decided he would give Harry one more day, and then he was going into the office and demanding some answers himself, regardless of the danger.

 

~~~

 

Theo stormed through the Ministry corridors. Apart from last week, when his mind had been clouded with worry, it was his first foray back into this place for nearly a year. That was a scary thought. Now that his mind was clearer he saw that nothing had changed, just like always. 

 

Well, one thing had. More people stared. He had tidied his face up, the scruffy beard he had sported over Christmas was gone, a five o’clock shadow remaining. He had cut his own hair back to its usual short back and sides. He knew his facial scars were now more prominent, but he focused on the fact that never once had Hermione flinched away from him because of them. He did not wish to look like a vagrant for the rest of his life.

 

As the stares followed him, he quickened his pace. The sooner he got there, the better. 

 

The hallways of the Ministry always seemed to get darker and narrower the closer you got to the Auror office. He wondered if it was an ironic warning that this department dealt with everything dark.

 

He pushed through the heavy door into a surprisingly full and jovial office. He felt that anger that sat so close to boiling over all the time simmer to the surface, and as he stalked through the desks towards Potter’s office, he felt a hush fall over the desks behind him.

 

Before he reached Harry’s office a female Auror whose name he couldn't place called out to him.

 

“He’s not in, Nott. He's out looking for your girlfriend… Ex girlfriend? I don't know... You know, when you were gone, Granger hardly left this office for the first couple of weeks. She was so fraught with despair at your loss, and yet you wait a week? Seems maybe Pucey is a better option for her after all… He's been out of his mind with worry. Barely been in the office, in fact. Certainly not sleeping.”

 

He stared incredulously at the nerve of this woman! So now there was a specific criteria of grief, nerves, worry, and anger that he had to comply to to justify his relationship and love for Hermione? Before he could even consider a reply, a door to the left of him opened and the man who was the hot topic appeared through it.

 

Theo surveyed him in the moments before Adrian registered he was there. He did indeed look tired. Frayed around the edges, one might say. The calm figure that everyone usually saw was morphing into something new.

 

“Nott!” he said, looking surprised. “What are  _ you _ doing here? I believe we said we would get in contact if we had any news?”

 

“Well, despite that amazing offer, I've gotten sick of waiting around for news that doesn't seem to be coming. I want to speak to Harry.”

 

“Well, he's not here. He's taken Malfoy off to look into something. Personally,” he said with a knowing sneer, “we’re closing in on Malfoy’s hiding place. Harry is humouring the jumped up little shit. Turns out the Malfoys own a warehouse that he's never disclosed. I intend to inform Harry as soon as he returns, and with any luck, Hermione will be home by midnight, where she belongs, with the people who care about her most.”

 

Ignoring the tidbit of information regarding Draco, which once again sliced through him at the potential betrayal of his best friend--all of this because Theo didn't want to be in a relationship with him--he latched onto the comment about Hermione being home instead.

 

“And you think you're included in that list of people do you, Pucey? Always desperate for the things you can't have! In particular… my things. My life?”

 

“We've gotten close, Nott. We thought you were dead. Who could blame her for moving on?”

 

“You mean you  _ hoped _ I was dead? I know for a fact that she didn't believe it, ever.”

 

“Did she tell you that before, or after she admitted kissing me? How about that we very nearly took it to the next level? I want everything with her and I would never push her away like you have.”

 

“Get tortured and kidnapped for six months, and then have that discussion with me!” Theo’s fists were clenched now, and despite his calm words, his face was turning an angry shade of red.

 

“I'll leave that area of weakness to your expertise, Nott. Don't worry, I'll continue to pick up the pieces of the woman you broke in your wake. Like you said yourself, even your own child was ashamed of you.”

 

The venomous words sunk into Theo like the fangs of a snake; a sharp scratch followed by the awful pressure as they sunk deep, the unbearable sting of pain as the poison coursed through his veins.

 

With a howl he launched himself at his old housemate, fists ready and waiting to connect with his smug face. Before he could lash out, he felt strong arms pulling against him and tugging him away from his tormentor.

 

“Seriously, Pucey? What was that?” Roberts yelled, hanging onto Theo's arm.

 

As the red mist descended, Theo shrugged the Auror’s arm off of his. He remembered where he was and struggled for calm. The whole department had just witnessed that; the papers were already calling him feral, there was no need to compound the situation. 

 

“What are you even doing here, Roberts?” Pucey spat. “I thought you were meant to be with Potter and Malfoy?”

 

“I came to get something. I'm en route to meet them now. That's an interesting theory about Malfoy though. Need any help? I thought we had already done extensive background checks on him.”

 

“Obviously not extensive enough! Malfoy has far too much sway in this department, or we have too many people easily manipulated with his money.”

 

“Hmm, maybe. For Granger’s sake let's hope this is it. Come on, Mister Nott, come with me. I don't think you are going to get much more from Adrian that won't end up in a fistfight.”

 

Adrian glared at the young Auror. “You need to watch yourself, Roberts. You always seem to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Too close to Malfoy for my liking as well.”

 

“Adrian, Malfoy hates my guts. Too much of a rookie, remember?”

 

With a growl Adrian turned and stormed back into his office, slamming the door behind him.

 

“Too little sleep, I think,” Roberts mused as the two men walked back through the silent office. Everyone watched them leave. “SHOW’S OVER, PEOPLE. BACK TO WORK!” he yelled as the door slammed behind them.

 

“That wasn’t very rookie like behaviour, Roberts,” Theo said.

 

“What can I say?” he laughed. “In the face of stupidity, my confidence grows.”

 

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they came to the fireplaces.

 

“Theo, look before you go, I need to speak with you.”

 

“What is it, Roberts?” His words were clipped, his mind was working through what had just happened.

 

“About Draco. He wants to see you.”

 

Theo turned to stare at the young Auror. “I bet he does, but I've heard too much. I can't trust him. He's thrown my trust away at every opportunity.”

 

“You know Draco better than me, but even I can see something hurt him. I have my suspicions on what, but that's neither here nor there.”

 

“And what about this new warehouse? There is always something! Hurt or not, Draco keeps ending up in the line of fire. He flat out refused to help us find her, didn't care that someone could be torturing her. I have no wish to see him.”

 

Theo could see his response agitated the Auror, but also that he couldn't come up with a reasonable argument to persuade him otherwise. Theo took a step into the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder as he did so.

 

“It was good to see you, Roberts. And thanks for not allowing me to make a fool out of myself up there.”

 

“Theo, wait... the warehouse! It's a load of nonsense. It's been cleared already, by Harry. Draco told him about it, took Harry there himself. Adrian doesn't know yet.”

 

“I'm sure it has, but me and Draco? We're done. Tell Harry I want an update from him.”

 

And with that, he threw the Floo powder into the fire and left the young Auror behind.

 

~~~

 

He could almost set his watch by him now.

 

It had been three days since Roberts had pulled him aside at the Ministry and Theo had only been back once in that time. Things seems fraught, and a little strange.

 

Clearly, in Roberts’ mind, there was some kind of conspiracy going on: Harry talking to Draco, to Roberts, Draco and Roberts talking… Harry seemed to be avoiding him, and Roberts was desperate for Theo to speak to Draco. The only ones that seemed to be acting normal were Dawlish and Pucey; the former was there briefly when Theo visited, but from the grunted conversation he had with the grizzled Auror he got the idea that Dawlish was on an assignment in Wales that was not going well. Pucey though…

 

Adrian seemed the most normal. He still treated Theo with disdain, but that was to be expected between rivals for a woman’s affection, and it wasn’t the first time the pair had butted heads over a woman! He seemed busy, always scribbling in his book, or working with the magical map of the country in the office: he plotted locations, paths, magical ley lines. His investigation seemed thorough and almost frantic. Theo didn’t care if Pucey worked himself into the ground, if he managed to find Hermione then Theo would be happy; even if Hermione fell for Pucey’s knight in shining armour routine, he had no doubt she would still choose Theo in the end.

 

_ Even after you pushed her away over the last weeks, keeping her at arm’s length the whole time? _

 

He ignored the doubting voice. He leant against the archway between his hallway and living room and glanced at the clock above the fireplace. He shook his head and held up a hand, three fingers raised. Slowly he lowered them, one at a time, then pointed at the front door.

 

The doorbell rang, and Theo rolled his eyes. Right on time again. A Malfoy was never late, as he had been told on many an occasion.

 

Draco rapped on the door. “Theo, I need to talk to you, and you need to listen. I know you don’t trust anyone at the moment, but I need to try anyway. I’m a stubborn bastard at times, as well you know.”

 

Theo sank into the armchair near the archway, ignoring the man on his doorstep. He could hear Malfoy’s voice, droning on, imploring him to open the door and talk about Hermione. Theo had heard it all before, and there wasn’t anything new in what Draco was saying.

 

He frowned then, picking up on something unusual. It was  _ exactly the same _ ! Draco paused in the same parts as yesterday, when Theo had interrupted him, responding to the question he had been asked…

 

Theo snatched up his wand and spun out of his chair, just as he felt the wards on his house unravel. Malfoy appeared with a sharp crack and Theo sent a jet of red light his way. The hasty attack was blocked with ease, and Theo threw himself away from the counterattack.

 

“ _ Protego _ !” he yelled. Draco’s follow up strike, a tangle of black, twisting vines, slithered across the shimmering light. He scythed his wand at them, cutting them apart and sent a stinging hex back. It ricocheted off Draco’s shield, burning a hole into the white paint of the ceiling.

 

There was an angry screech, and Theo saw Quincy swoop out of the kitchen, talons extended towards Malfoy’s back. Draco turned and slashed his wand towards the attacking owl, a flash of blue light enveloping the bird. He fell to the carpet, stiff as a board.

 

“Bastard!” Theo yelled, another hex flickering across the room, and Malfoy span on the spot, vanishing with a crack. The hex splashed across the wall, sharp thorns growing out of the plaster.

 

“You’re getting slow, Nott!” Draco’s voice came from the hallway.

 

“And you’re an accursed liar!” Theo spat. “You looked me in the eye and swore… You  _ swore _ that you weren't involved, Draco!”

 

“Pretty sure you attacked me first.”

 

“You invaded my home,” Theo said, padding quietly towards the kitchen arch, hoping to loop around and back into the hallway.

 

“I took down your ridiculous wards and entered the home of a dear friend, who was being an unreasonable jackass, with the express purpose of galvanising him to find his girlfriend. Some would say I’m a bloody saint!”

 

Theo entered the kitchen, remaining silent as he moved through towards the small archway that led out into the hallway; the door to his study was open, but Malfoy’s voice came from the left, between the kitchen and lounge. He could be stood on the stairs, he thought to himself, ready to strike.

 

“I know you don’t trust anyone at the moment,” Malfoy continued, “but I need to try anyway. I’m a stubborn bastard at times, as well you know.”

 

Theo swung around the arch, launching a stunning spell towards the voice. It burned a hole into the bannister, carrying on to scorch the hallway wall. There was no sign of Malfoy.

 

“I don’t like having conversations with doors, as I’ve told you before,” Draco continued, his voice still coming from directly in front of Theo.

 

He saw Draco’s wand, resting against the bottom step, a faint glow coming from the tip as it replayed his words from yesterday. “Shit…”

 

He started to spin around, just as Draco launched himself out of the study, tackling Theo heavily. Arms around his waist, head tucked low, he powered into Theo’s back, tangling his legs and driving him to the ground. The pair slid along the wooden floor, and Malfoy pushed himself up before Theo could move, levelling a swift kick between the prostrate man’s legs.

 

Theo curled up with a grunt of pain, cradling himself as Draco snatched up his wand.

 

“ _ Expelliarmus! _ ”

 

The blast of white light snatched Theo’s wand from his hand as Malfoy shouted again, chains whipping from the end of his wand to wrap Theo tightly.

 

“ _ Levicorpus _ !” Malfoy said lazily with a flick of his wand, grinning as Theo was hoisted towards the ceiling, dangling by his feet. Leaning forward with his hands on his knees, Draco just breathed, ignoring Theo’s struggles. “Just like our second year, when that idiot, Lockhart, tried to start up a duelling club,” he panted. “It was a fun few months, never knowing who was going to start a duel in the common room next. You and I were usually able to best anyone that attacked us though, even back then. We always were a good team.”

 

“Let me out of this, Malfoy!” Theo grunted. “No wands, no spells… Just you and me!”

 

“Mano a mano? Brawling like a commoner? Pass.” Draco gestured with his wand, causing Theo’s trussed up body to float into the lounge. He stooped to pick up Theo’s wand, casually tossing it onto the sofa before walking over to the small bar set near the window. “As a certain, annoying woman would say, ‘what we’ve got here is failure to communicate’.”

 

Theo tried to control his breathing, feeling that horrible sensation building in his chest again. His vision was blackening at the edges as his heart raced. Draco set two crystal glasses on the counter and filled each with a generous measure of firewhisky, then placed one on the coffee table and settled into an armchair with the other.

 

He took a small sip, savouring the flavour, his head lolled back. “Well, I say 'we’.  _ You _ have a failure to communicate,  _ I've  _ been trying to communicate for days now.”

 

“So this is it?” Theo said quietly. “You’ve taken Hermione and got rid of her, now you’re here to take me again? What for? I’ve already told you I’ll never be yours in the way you want!”

 

“Whilst that is painfully clear to me,” Draco said, sitting forward and taking another sip, “and thank you for reminding me of my shame, by the way… No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here for precisely the reasons I’ve told you, but that you are too paranoid and stubborn to listen to.

 

“I have been watching the Auror team, in my unfortunate role of temporary civilian, and things are not right with one of them. He’s not acting right, his appearance has become sloppy, his work erratic and distracted. My ears on the inside say that his excuses for being late are feeble, and he disappears at odd hours of the day. I snuck in and took a look in his desk when he wasn’t around, and what I found is not exactly encouraging for someone who is supposed to be leading a frantic womanhunt!”

 

“Who are you talking about?”

 

“The person everyone should probably have been looking at the whole time. Personally, I had a moment of insanity where I started to suspect Roberts; he's brand new, eager, annoying. Far too nice and helpful… I mean, seriously, who can be  _ that _ nice all the time. It must be exhausting.

 

“But no. Roberts, despite being practically a baby, is above board and a decent enough Auror. It’s that slimy snake Pucey that’s the problem! We’re convinced it’s him that has Hermione  _ and _ that he was the one that took you too!”

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will post on Wednesday 17th October


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4: Chapter 3

“Theo, will you  _ please _ tell your blasted bird to stop pecking me!”

 

“Quincy?” Theo said, drawing the owl's attention for a moment. “Has Mister Malfoy apologised for casting a Freezing charm on you yet?”

 

Quincy fluffed his feathers and screeched indignantly.

 

“No? Well,” Theo drawled, sipping his firewhisky, “as you were.” He grinned as Quincy pecked Draco on the ear, eliciting a howl of pain.

 

“That drew blood, you maniac!” Draco shouted, hand clapped to his ear. “Fine! I'm sorry, okay?”

 

Quincy hooted, his wings still raised, head weaving aggressively.

 

Draco held up both hands and moderated his tone. “Alright, I'm sorry, Quincy. It was wrong of me to attack Theo and yourself. Forgiven?”

 

The little owl held his gaze for a moment, yellow to grey, then blinked slowly. His wings lowered, and he gave himself a shake before taking off and flying out into the kitchen.

 

“He's a stubborn git at times, quick to anger and has a delicate ego to boot,” Theo smiled.

 

“That's true,” muttered Draco, “though it can’t be denied that he has beautiful plumage.”

 

“I was talking about you.”

 

“Yes, so was I,” Draco said with a grin.

 

“Why hasn't Harry done something yet? If he's convinced of Adrian's guilt, why hasn't he brought him to heel? And who is this 'we’ you mentioned? You said 'we’re convinced’.”

 

Draco shook his head wryly. “The devious bastard, Pucey, is very good at covering his tracks. We've met in secret; Potter, Roberts, Dawlish, and I, discussing the things we've seen, putting together our concerns. We've kept the conspiracy small to avoid him catching wind that we're on to him.”

 

“So we get him, make him talk. We can't wait any longer! Who knows what he's doing to Hermione.”

 

“Granger is being hidden under the Fidelius Charm, that we're almost certain of. Dawlish was trailing him but lost him. I set Gorky to following Pucey after that. There was a point when he suddenly just vanished, even Gorky couldn't follow him; says there was a shield that stopped him from following after.”

 

“And his home?”

 

“Pucey has a small house in the suburbs of London, set back from the road, high walls, big gates. It's impossible to see inside the boundaries, and the way it stops you screams 'Fidelius’.”

 

“So we can't hold him without putting Hermione at risk.”

 

“Unless torture is a viable option,” Draco said quietly.

 

“Tempting, but no,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I can't do that, can't approve that.”

 

“Potter and Roberts said the same thing. Unethical, apparently. Dawlish wasn't opposed to it.”

 

“So what does Potter suggest? You four are the trained investigators; what do we do now? Last I checked, it's near impossible to break a Fidelius, even by killing the Secret Keeper.”

 

Draco nodded. “We've been trying to work out a tactic to get in behind the Charm but keep coming up empty. As galling as it is for me to say it, we may need Granger's help.”

 

“And how do you propose we manage that?”

 

~~~

 

“Did the woman never tidy up?” Draco groused, digging through a stack of books that threatened to topple at any moment.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t try!” Theo grunted, hauling books out of Hermione’s bedroom and piling them in the hallway of her flat. “I made her a filing cabinet, with dividers and colour coded sections, an extension charm. Did she use it?”

 

Draco walked across the lounge to the large cabinet, pulling up the sliding cover and hauling out one of the drawers. “Empty.” He closed that one and pulled at another drawer. “Also empty.”

 

Theo sighed and shook his head. “I suppose I did give it to her the day before I was taken. She must not have been in the right frame of mind…”

 

“Found something!” Draco declared, searching through a drawer further into the cabinet. “A signed copy of ‘Hogwarts: A History’? How the hell did she manage that?”

 

“Rare bookshop in Oxford, a few years ago. She told me about going there to get away from things after she and Oliver broke up. She’s quite proud of that find, not many of those around any more, apparently.”

 

“Adding the author’s signature to a boring book does not change its fundamental nature,” Draco said, placing the book on top of the cabinet. “It just means it’s a slightly more  _ expensive _ boring book.”

 

The following three hours were a fruitless trawl through Hermione's flat. With next to nothing pertinent in the cabinet--Draco found some photos, Hermione's OWL and NEWT certificates, a pack of tarot cards, and Hermione's pile of research on kidnapping cases--the pair were left with the task of sorting through all the piles of paper, folders full of notes, and piles of books, searching for something. Draco knew she had been working on something, but her vague comments she had left with Dawlish, a couple of days before Theo had been found were not much help.

 

On the positive side, Theo took a strange pleasure in organising Hermione's notes by subject and date, slowly filling the cabinet he had made for her. He wrote out labels, sorted everything into an order that would be intuitive for her to use, and filed much of it away. Some of the more obscure or cryptic notes were left in several piles for her to deal with when she returned.

 

There was an additional small pile of notes that related to the use of underage magic. Draco was more interested in poring over these.

 

“Are you sure she was researching something to do with the Trace?” Theo questioned, as he pushed a drawer closed.

 

“She must have been. It's the only thing that makes sense,” Draco said. “She has a book on the law against the use of underage magic; not just notes, a whole damn book! Her notes include minutes of her meeting with Mafalda Hopkirk. She was clearly talking to her about how the Trace works.”

 

“To what end? The Trace breaks when we come of age, and there is no way to recast it on an adult.”

 

“I know that, but she was looking for some way of tracking you. There was something in it that attracted her.”

 

“Did she approach you about it?”

 

Draco looked away, sheepishly. “Probably. I regret to say that she wanted to talk to me about something, but I snubbed her.”

 

“That was the ‘vague message’ she left with Dawlish?”

 

“Yes, but as it happens, it turned out to matter little, as Pucey decided to ‘rescue’ you shortly afterwards.”

 

“Which is something that still confuses me about all this. Why hold me prisoner for months, only to rescue me? Why not just kill me and get it over with? What was his plan?” Theo slumped down onto the now clear sofa.

 

“She was,” Draco shrugged. “With you out of the way he could smooze his way into her heart.”

 

“But why not kill me and be done with it? It must have taken a lot of effort for him to hold me, keep me alive,  _ frame your friend _ for my kidnapping… My death would have served his purpose just as well.”

 

“Agreed. I’d have killed you the second I’d gotten you somewhere safe. There are catacombs beneath Malfoy Manor where I could have stored your corpse until it was nought but bones, and no one would have found you. Those bones could then be scattered to the four corners of the country, one at a time, never to be reconnected.”

 

Theo stared at him. “That is a disturbingly detailed snapshot into your mind, my friend.”

 

Draco grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m planning on doing it to Pucey when we get our hands on him!”

 

There was a muffled sound from behind the sofa and Theo leant over the back to see Quincy rooting around in the scraps of paper that had so far evaded their gathering attempts. The owl was stood underneath a small table that was behind the sofa, snapping at something.

 

“What are you up to, Quincy?” The owl gave another muffled squawk as Theo stood and moved around. Pulling the table aside he pushed the back of the sofa, finding it heavier than it looked. Stooping, he lifted the back and tipped it forward. Quincy immediately waddled forward and used his beak to tap the book that was lying, unnoticed, on the floor. He looked up at Theo and hooted happily.

 

“Draco,” Theo called.

 

“What’s wrong?” Draco came over and looked down at the book on the floor, then at Quincy, who was wiping his beak on the side of the sofa. “Oh, you’re a dark horse, Hermione Granger…” he breathed as he lifted and turned the book over.

 

~~~

 

“You know, most Dark witches and wizards have a special place, protected by charms and curses, for their… questionable reading material. They don’t tend to store it in the bottom of the chaise lounge!”

 

Theo shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the small pile of books, notepads, and scrap paper. “Hermione is not a Dark witch, Draco.”

 

“She has more material on the… ahh…  _ dubious _ art of Blood Magic than my dear Aunt did.”

 

“That I doubt!” Theo scoffed. “Bellatrix was very knowledgeable of that particular branch of magic.”

 

It was Draco’s turn to shake his head. “All word of mouth and supervised teaching. My Great Aunt Druella wouldn’t let Auntie at the reading material directly. Very jealous of her hoard, she was; so much so she ordered the house elves to burn it all before she died. Aunt Bella was most distressed.

 

“I don’t know who your ‘sweet and innocent’ girl has been talking to, but they have definitely supplied her with some of the best materials on the subject.” Draco tapped each book as he spoke. “ _ Vessels of Power  _ is almost a Primer on the subject of Blood Magic.  _ The Noxious Vein _ is merely a collection of anecdotes and fables, but useful in some respects, if only as a cautionary tale. These two though?” Draco picked up the large books with a twist of distaste on his lips. “ _ Haemosia Magicka Moste Potente _ and  _ Ex Sanguine Nox Sinister _ ? They’re the real deal. And there is no way she obtained these legally.” He grinned at Theo’s discomfort. “I’m impressed! Who’d have thought… the Gryffindor princess, of all people. Your Hermione is a naughty, naughty girl!”

 

Theo glared at him. “Please don’t talk about her like that.”

 

“What? You don’t think your sweet lady would wear black if the occasion called for it? She’s ambitious, determined, and willing to do what it takes to get the job done. She was prepared to learn all about Blood Magic in order to find you! I’ll admit, I may have misjudged her. She may not be such a stick in the mud, after all!”

 

Theo ignored him for a moment, sifting through the notebooks and bits of paper. Hermione’s neat but cramped handwriting filled every sheet. “She believes the Trace is Blood Magic, a sort of legalised form of it, created years ago when Blood Magic wasn’t so reviled. There’s a diagram here where she shows the parallels.”

 

“Still a swot, I see, showing her working out for the Professor.”

 

“She planned on using my blood to create a spell that would ‘sniff’ me out. Listen, ‘I’m not sure if the carpet will provide sufficient blood cells, but it is all I have to work with of Theo. If Theo is not found beforehand, when our baby is born it may be possible to use a drop of its blood and filter out my own, leaving something approaching Theo’s…’”

 

Draco whistled. “Wow, you were right. I was completely wrong about her. Dark magic is completely off the table. You know, I think she would fail rather than embrace a little darkness in order to achieve her goals. My bad.”

 

“Fuck off, Malfoy.”

 

Draco snickered at Theo's annoyance. “Just admit it! Hermione’s a woman who will do whatever is necessary, even if that thing is morally dubious. You know, I’m starting to wish I’d been her friend all this time.”

 

Theo sighed. He was right, as much as he disliked the idea: Hermione had been willing to dabble with Dark magic to find him. He couldn't be morally offended; it wasn't as if his own soul was pristine, after all. If this research was anything to go by, she had come close to melding a number of spells together. It looked as though it was only a lack of the vital component that had stymied her attempt in the end.

 

“Okay, so she looked into some... alternative methodologies…”

 

Draco clapped him on the back. “There, wasn't so hard, was it? Now… how do we go about finishing what she started and getting her back?”

 

~~~

 

Roberts walked down the wide hallway, his stride confident. The only thing anyone watching him could have a said was that he seemed to hold doors open for longer than was strictly necessary. 

 

If someone had been really focusing on the young man, then they would have seen a couple of eye rolls and hushes from him.

 

No one could see the two men behind him. Hidden as they were with the help of Harry's borrowed invisibility cloak. Harry had listened to their plan and eventually agreed to lend them the cloak after deciding there was no way for them to do it without the possibility of Pucey finding out somehow. Harry hadn’t wanted details though, perhaps sensing that there was something less than legal behind the plan.

 

“Nott, you are stepping on my feet!” An angry Draco huffed in a loud whisper.

 

“You need to move a bit quicker, princess! Poor Roberts looks like a right idiot, holding doors open for nobody!”

 

“I'm pretty sure this is made for one, not two people. Why did we both need to come? I could be sat down draining your drinks cabinet dry. Oh no, wait a minute, you've already done that, haven't you, Nott.”

 

“Thank you for your perfectly eloquent observation, Malfoy. The fact that Potter, Weasley,  _ and _ Hermione managed perfectly well at Hogwarts shows the fault here lies with you and your oversized clown feet.” Theo decided it was not worth saying anything more and instead stomped on Draco's foot again.’

 

Draco failed to disguise his muffled yelp of pain and Roberts spun around with a look of disgust on his face.

 

“If you two don't stop making so much noise, we'll all be caught, and none of us will be able to help Miss Granger!” he hissed before opening the next door, coming face to face with the head Healer at St Mungo's.

 

“Ah, Auror Roberts, how are you? To what do we owe the pleasure?”

 

“Err… hello Healer Eastleigh, I'm well and yourself?”

 

“Very well thank you. Now, how can I help? I wasn't expecting any of your team in here today.”

 

“I needed to ask a favour. We are looking back over some of the Nott investigation, and I know we had some blood vials stored. I was wondering if I can pick one or two of those up?”

 

“I'm sure someone can help you, we have a few new starters who are in need of something to do. Exceptionally quiet week for a change! Why don't you go and wait down near the lab and I'll send someone to help you.”

 

“Great, thanks.”

 

The two men bid each other a farewell and Roberts carried on through the door looking pleased with himself.

 

“Don't get too up yourself, Roberts,” Draco hissed. “Sweet Merlin, your inexperience is showing again.”

 

Theo stamped on his foot once more for good measure as they passed another Healer. This time Draco managed to muffle his yelp, merely letting out an angry hiss.

 

“Do that one more time, Nott, and you'll wish Pucey killed you when he had the chance,” Draco snarled in a whisper.

 

~~~

 

A few minutes later, a nervous young trainee Healer was showing Roberts through a door into the lab where all the blood samples were kept. Theo could see the samples on the other side of a locked door.

 

“So,” she asked, somewhat coyly it seemed to Theo, “what's the number of the sample we need and do you have the authorisation paperwork from the Head of Magical Law Enforcement?”

 

“Oh shoot, I left that back at the office!” Roberts said, putting on a great show of distress.

 

“Without that, I can't release the sample, Mister Roberts,” she stuttered. 

 

“Healer Eastleigh knows me. I can get the clearance over to him afterwards if need be. You'd be helping me out if you could just let me have it?”

 

“Sorry, I can't. Well… I'll have to check first. Wait here please.” She scurried out of the lab.

 

“Well done, Roberts,” Theo said, pulling Draco towards the door. He swiftly unlocked it and ducked through, heading for the cabinets that held all the vials.

 

It was a moment before he noticed that Draco was still by the door. He popped his head out from under the Cloak. “What are you doing?”

 

“Roberts,” Draco hissed, “that Healer… pretty sure she fancies you. Flirt with her, drag it out. Give us more time!”

 

“But I... “

 

“Do it!” Draco said, ducking into the room and diving under the Cloak, just as she returned.

 

“My supervisor says I can't do it without the paperwork, Mister Roberts. I'm so sorry. I'm going to have to escort you out.”

 

“Oh man, I’m going to get in trouble for this... What's your name by the way?”

 

“Bella.”

 

“That's a beautiful name.”

 

Bella blushed but went back to looking to hurry him out.

 

Roberts nearly shouted out loud when he saw Draco's head pop out from under the Cloak and look pointedly at him, then at Bella. “Flirt,” he mouthed angrily before ducking back under the cloak.

 

“So today's your first day right?” Roberts questioned, a touch too loudly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

 

“Excuse me?” she said, blushing even more.

 

“Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. Those two thoughts should have been separate... I'm… um... not very good at this. Kinda get tongue-tied around pretty ladies.”

 

She giggled and started to play with her hair. “Well, as it happens, no. I don't have a boyfriend right now.”

 

“Right, I..  err… great.” 

 

Theo could sense the panic in the Auror's voice. He really  _ wasn't _ very good at this!

 

“So... are you thinking of asking me out?” she said with a slightly more forward look in her eyes. Her shyness was gone, and she moved a bit closer to the muscled Auror. 

 

“Well, I, umm… sure I am, I guess.” He swallowed nervously.

 

“You guess?” she asked, her hand reaching out to touch the arm closest to her.

 

He seemed to flounder at her touch, and Theo saw his panicked look over towards him and Draco, no doubt seeing the drawers and cabinets opening one by one. His glance caused Bella to turn her head to look at what had distracted him.

 

Impulsively he cupped her face and he pulled her towards him, his lips awkwardly finding hers.

 

Her gasp of surprise caused Theo to look up in worry. He grinned when he saw what was going on. He nudged Draco.

 

“Have you found it?” he whispered.

 

“No, but look at this.” Theo pointed, and Draco looked across to see Roberts locked in what appeared to be a very passionate kiss with Bella.

 

Draco grunted, a slightly annoyed sound.

 

“You told him to flirt,” Theo said with a smirk.

 

“I said flirt… Not suck her face off!”

 

“I think it's more the other way around now. You know, I always thought he was…”

 

“You thought he was what?” Draco asked distractedly, his eyes still on the Auror.

 

“I've got it!” Theo whispered excitedly. 

 

Draco turned away and checked it was the right vial. “Excellent. Let's get out of here.”

 

The pair started to move and head towards the exit. Checking Bella was thoroughly distracted they slipped through the door, and Theo relocked it.

 

“What about Roberts?” Theo whispered. The Auror’s eyes were frantically swivelling from side to side, looking for them, whilst the young woman attached to his lips was none the wiser.

 

“Call it training. He's too green. Let him figure it out for himself.”

 

“We can’t do that, he's on our team.”

 

“We need to get out of here now. Oh, fine,” he sighed, “I'll give him a heads up.”

 

Before Theo could ask how, Draco popped his head and arm out of the Cloak, waved to Roberts, then ducked back under before pushing Theo through the exit.

 

Poor Roberts was left wondering how he was going to escape his first kiss with a woman; one who appeared to want to suck his face off for good!

 

~~~

 

Less than an hour later the pair were back at Malfoy Manor. They had everything they needed for the spell laid out, the vial of Hermione's blood, drawn while she had been pregnant, in the centre. Theo was reminded of the vast size of the Manor’s grounds, and also the large number of dubious contents it still held. Draco had been forced to surrender or clear away many of its Dark items, or so Theo had thought. Maybe Draco had just got better at hiding them away from visitors. 

 

_ Who am I to judge? _ Theo thought to himself.

 

They had trawled through the Manor’s Apothecary, Gorky assisting, silently looking for the ingredients on Hermione’s list. Along with her blood, they required four candles, antimony, two beetle eyes, five lizards legs, two pinches of powdered snakeweed, and some valerian root.

 

Theo was going through the minutiae of the ritual, making sure he had it committed to memory. If all went to plan the ‘trace’ would activate and he should be able to locate Hermione. He wasn’t sure how it would work. Her notes finished before they explained what would happen, although Draco surmised Theo would feel the pull of where she was, and a location should formulate in his mind. He would hopefully be able to Apparate to her, circumventing the Fidelius.

 

Looking at the clock, Theo noted that it had been over an hour since their arrival back at the Manor and there was still no sign of Roberts. Just then he heard the front door slam, and the handsome young Auror stormed into the room.

 

“I hate you two!” he announced with a huff.

 

“Darryl, you look like you've been mauled by a baby lion cub,” Theo said, surprised by the man's appearance.

 

He gave them both a disgusted look. “I cannot believe you left me there. She wouldn't let me leave! Considering she wouldn't let me have the blood without her supervisor's permission, she didn't seem to care about possibly getting caught trying to shag me in there!”

 

“You didn't?!” Draco gasped.

 

“Would you care if I did?” Darryl retorted.

 

“Why would I? You just don't seem the type.”

 

“Too inexperienced with life? Too green, as you keep saying? I did what I needed to do to get the job done, Malfoy. Since you left me there, I didn't have much choice, did I?”

 

“Wow… Well, I'm impressed, Roberts.” Draco eyed the young man with what Theo would describe as reluctant respect. “I need to go and get some candles for the spell. Be right back…”

 

“But, Draco…” Theo started, but the blond had hurried from the room. “We already have candles here,” he finished quietly.

 

He watched Daryl adjusting his hair and clothes in the mirror across the room. “Hey, Roberts, did you  _ really _ sleep with her?”

 

“Of course not,” Darryl said with a grimace, “what do you take me for? But Draco doesn't need to know that now does he?” The man winked at Theo as he straightened his tie.

 

“Fair play, Roberts. You had me there; you played the scared, young virgin very well! It looked that was the first time you had kissed a woman!”

 

“Between you and me, Theo... it was. Never wanted to before, and now that I have, I don't wish to repeat the experience. Women are nice enough, and I have no problem having female friends, I just don’t want them on my face!”

 

Before Theo could comment, Draco stormed back into the room. “Right, boys, let's get cracking.”

 

~~~

 

Time ticked by, but eventually, the potion was ready. The foul looking potion was, in fact, the liquid precursor to the Charm used by the Ministry. The Charm version was time-limited and broke automatically on the child’s 18th birthday. What they had made would last only a few hours, maximum. Theo refused to look at the pictures in the book that accompanied the methodology, suggesting uses for this particular potion. It all looked barbaric and usually involved some form of Muggle-baiting. He had seen the look of disgust cross Robert’s face as he took a look through the book.

 

“This isn’t Hermione, Darryl. She was desperate.” Theo felt the need to stick up for her. He didn’t want people judging her character based on this book.

 

“I know,” Roberts replied. “She’s a muggleborn, like me. This would have been hard for her to look through as well, I suspect.”

 

“A  _ Dark _ muggleborn,” Draco cackled. “I love it. I really feel I have misunderstood Granger all this time! I can’t wait to ask what Muggle-baiting spell was her favourite. Was it the one where the Muggle strips themselves naked and runs straight into a web full of Acromantula? Or maybe Weedosoros, where the Muggle is drugged, and force-fed the poison, which slowly causes them to despair until they top themselves. I’m sure she will have an opinion, don't you?” He looked slyly at Roberts.

 

“Sure,” Roberts replied, refusing to give Draco the satisfaction of a more aggravated response.

 

Theo just shook his head at Draco’s disappointed face when Roberts ignored him. “Right, are we ready? We have the candles?”

 

“Check,” Roberts replied. With a wave of his wand the candles that surrounded Theo in a diamond shape, marking the four cardinal directions, flared to life.

 

Theo took the goblet from Draco, the murky green potion sloshing inside. It looked foul and the smell emitting from the smoking liquid would require Theo to force it down his throat before he threw it back up.

 

“Okay,” Draco said, “we need to incant twice before you drink. Then we incant twice more before you use the knife.”

 

Draco didn’t miss Theo’s slight falter at the thought of the knife against his skin once again, and he reached out to touch his friend’s arm. “Are you going to be able to do this, Theo?”

 

“Yes, let's just get on with it. The more time I have to think about it, the less likely I’ll be okay.”

 

“Alright. After the cut, we incant three more times whilst the blood drips into the circle. Then you pour Hermione’s blood over your cut, while we incant once more. Then… we wait, I guess.”

 

“Okay, let’s do this…”

 

“You ready, Roberts?” Draco asked. “You have the wand waving bit down, yeah?

 

“Draco.” Theo’s warning was not lost on Malfoy. 

 

“Sheesh, just a joke.“

 

“I have it, Draco. Now come on, let’s start,” Roberts urged.

 

Theo watched as the two men began to move their wands in the motion that the book suggested and began the incantation.

 

“ _ Tactus adfectusm actus maledictum, cors tuum urna magicus, fascinare tuum amina, fascinare femina dibilis, Laqueus Laqueus! _ ”

 

As the men began for the second time the temperature in the chamber lowered noticeably. As soon as the last word was spoken, Theo brought the goblet to his mouth. He fought his own hand almost, as it refused to tip the foul looking fluid into his mouth. Willpower eventually succeeded; he hadn’t been wrong, and he had to have a stern word with his stomach as it rebelled almost instantly. It tasted like nothing he could describe or even remotely relate it to. He finished it, eyes closed as he tried to keep it down. A roaring sound filled his ears, like wind rushing down a tunnel, or an avalanche racing down a mountain slope. He could just about make out the words Draco and Roberts were chanting, their wands never stopping, perfectly synchronised.

 

_ “Tactus adfectusm actus maledictum, cors tuum urna magicus, fascinare tuum amina, fascinare femina dibilis, Laqueus Laqueus! _

 

_ “Tactus adfectusm actus maledictum, cors tuum urna magicus, fascinare tuum amina, fascinare femina dibilis, Laqueus Laqueus!” _

 

The roaring continued, becoming louder. He knew he needed to use the blade, and his hand shook as he lifted it. He could see the worry in Draco’s eyes; for all the jokes and digs, he knew his friend was very concerned.

 

Taking a deep breath, Theo let a vision of Hermione fill his thoughts. Almost calmly now, he took the blade, cutting a sinuous symbol into the back of his forearm. The sting was nothing compared to his previous encounters with a blade, and his breathing steadied as soon as he came to this realisation. It was nothing, and he was in control. He gave Draco a reassuring nod, and they started chanting again.

 

_ “Tactus adfectusm actus maledictum, cors tuum urna magicus, fascinare tuum amina, fascinare femina dibilis, Laqueus Laqueus!” _

 

With each repetition of the phrase, the temperature fluctuated, climbing rapidly now. The roaring changed in tone, becoming piercing, painful almost. Placing the empty goblet and the bloody knife within the circle, Theo lifted vial of blood. He could feel himself sweating profusely; it was so hot... hotter than he had ever been. He felt suffocated, smothered with the heat. He tried not to panic, but he knew his body was ready to shut down on him again!

 

_ Not now! Hold it together, Theo! _

 

As soon as they finished the third repetition, Theo poured quickly, tracing the blood across the symbol on his forearm. The cool blood seemed to sizzle as it touched his skin, merging with his own. Holding back the urge to cry out, he nodded rapidly at Draco, terrified he would pass out before the spell was finished.

 

The men raised their voices, and Theo realised that they could all hear the roaring sound. 

 

_ Tactus adfectusm actus maledictum, cors tuum urna magicus, fascinare tuum amina, fascinare femina dibilis, Laqueus Laqueus!! _

 

The roaring ceased abruptly, and the candles blew out, plunging the room into pitch darkness. The chamber was suddenly deafeningly quiet, and Theo’s heavy breathing was loud in the silence. There was a faint rustle to either side of him as Draco and Roberts shifted slightly, their own breathing a little ragged.

 

Theo could feel himself starting to freak out when Draco finally spoke.

 

“Well?”

 

Theo shook his head, then said, “Nothing... I feel nothing.”

 

The room was filled with Draco’s curses, as Theo sank to the floor, head in his hands.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will post on Saturday 20th October


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4: Chapter 4

The ceiling needed painting. He'd have to get onto that eventually; the delicate lines and whorls were cracking in places, and if he didn't take care of it, it would only get worse.

 

His house was old, and despite only having been in his care for a few years, a number of larger remedial works were still required. He liked a challenge though, and restoring the fixtures and fittings in the house gave him a little jolt of enjoyment. He remembered moving into the property and finding many of the pipes and sanitary ware in need of repairs. His Charms and Transfiguration skills had come in handy, and he restored the kitchen to its full glory in the span of a weekend. The second bedroom ensuite had been considerably more of a challenge, but he had done it; the gleaming tiles and pristine white ceilings had satisfied his need for things to be ordered, catalogued, controlled. Disarray did not sit well with him.

 

Hence the filing cabinet he had made. He tried not to let it show, but Hermione's flat genuinely gave that tidy and ordered part of himself the heebie-jeebies. At least now, when she returned, everything would be orderly.

 

He felt a little guilty for taking the fun of organising her filing away from her. He knew she enjoyed things being just so--her school homework and study plans showed him that--but they never would have found her research in that mess if they hadn't done something.

 

_ Possibly _ , he admitted to himself. It was, after all, Quincy who had found the book first.

 

Theo shook his head and rubbed at his tired eyes. She was an enigma; for someone who loved neat and tidy precision in her timetables, she certainly was untidy with her research. Hermione Granger, studying the forbidden school of Blood Magic. Wonders would never cease. He had no idea where she had even gotten the idea from! Who  _ was _ this woman? He would never have considered that she would be interested in delving behind the dark curtain. Desperate times, they said…

 

Well, there were desperate times ahead still.

 

He wanted to get hold of Adrian Pucey and smash his head against a wall until he told him where Hermione was. That wasn't a good plan though. As soon as Adrian got the slightest hint they were onto him, he would vanish without a trace, taking Hermione with him. Merlin only knew what would happen to her after that.

 

Veritaserum had been discussed, but Draco had dismissed the idea when Darryl had suggested it: Pucey was one of several students at Hogwarts who had excelled at beating the potion's effects. Draco was one of the others.

 

Trickery was out. Pucey was too smart to fall for it, and the Fidelius Charm meant he couldn't be followed to Hermione's location.

 

Murder wasn’t an option either, if only because of how the Fidelius Charm worked in the event of the Secret Keepers death. He knew Roberts had never killed before--Theo was sure he’d never heard the man even  _ swear _ \--and Draco had struggled with the task when they were younger. They said the first was the hardest… Merlin knew that was the truth. Theo wondered if the second was any easier, but wasn't sure he ever wanted to find out.

 

He swore quietly under his breath. If only the spell had worked! It must have been the Fidelius; the spell was perfect, the Arithmancy was first rate--all three of them had achieved Outstandings in their NEWTs for Arithmancy--and the casting had been flawless. Darryl had wisely kept quiet when Draco had shown himself to be more than capable of understanding the intricacies of the wand work required for Blood Magic. 

 

The quiet murmur of voices began to penetrate his thoughts. It was distracting, so he lifted his head from the sofa and looked over towards the kitchen.

 

He could see the tops of two heads, one dark, one blond. They were reading together, and if Theo hadn't been so depressed and dejected, he'd have found the scene cute. As it was, their failure yesterday still weighed heavily upon his mind, and so the fact that Draco appeared to have put aside his animosity towards the younger man was not as much of an event as it might otherwise have been.

 

The tone of their voices changed abruptly, and Theo swung his legs around, sitting up. Draco noticed and beckoned him over.

 

“You're awake, good,” he said as Theo sat down at the island counter opposite the pair. They had the books open before them, the vial of Hermione's blood and an athame nearby. “How are you feeling? You looked pretty green last night.”

 

“Better now. I think it was just the potion wreaking havoc on my gut.”

 

Draco nodded in relief. “Take a look at this.” He swivelled the book around so Theo could see it.

 

“Have you two had any sleep at all?” Theo asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to get them to focus on the small writing in front of him.

 

“I think I dozed off for a bit,” said Darryl with a shrug. “Draco had read through several chapters in between blinks.”

 

“You were asleep for an hour,” Draco said with a sneer. “And you snorted and woke yourself up.”

 

“You need to sleep too, Draco, it's seven in the morning. Why don't you both turn in for a bit and we'll come at this fresh after lunchtime.”

 

“Not yet,” Draco said, tapping the book in front of him. “Read.”

 

He looked down to where Draco was pointing. The book,  _ Haemosia Magicka Moste Potente _ , was describing the bond that could be created with blood. People could be bound to the family's bloodline, or cut out, or even bonded in servitude to heirs of the house in perpetuity. He looked up at Draco, the question in his eyes.

 

“Okay? Now,, look at this one.” He slid one of the other books over, this one  _ The Noxious Vein _ . 

 

“The storybook?” Theo asked.

 

“Read it,” came the reply, and Theo could hear a slight quiver of excitement underneath. Darryl was smiling too.

 

Theo read quietly for a few minutes, flicking through the pages as the tale unfolded of a father, tired of dealing with his recalcitrant children, using red cords to hold them in place, so they had no choice but to do the chores he set them. After a while he sat back, a frown creasing his forehead.

 

“You see it, right?” Draco said.

 

“I think so. This story is an allegory… The father wasn't dealing with children… he's not even a father. That's wizardkind, endenturing the house-elves to serve them forever.”

 

“The elves are bonded by blood! They have had their bloodlines grafted to pureblood families for centuries. They are literally a part of the family, which is why and how they serve. They don't want to be free, because deep down they know they are a part of the family, albeit a lowly one. I have no idea why the act of gifting them with clothes seems to break that bond, but that’s not important.”

 

“How does this help us, exactly?” Theo asked.

 

“The rituals in the first book show us how to add someone to the bloodline. Hermione can be grafted onto the family tree, and the house-elf of that family would recognise her as its Mistress! We all know the house-elves can circumvent some of our spells, as and when they want; Dobby snuck into father's study for me and retrieved one of my toys, despite father having put some particularly unpleasant hexes on the room!”

 

“You sent Dobby to rescue your toy?” Theo smirked.

 

“Not the point,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

 

“No, I see the point. It's ingenious! Surprising too. I never knew this about the elves and their bond to the family line.”

 

“I can see the reason that this is going to be helpful for finding Miss Granger, but I'm not sure the whole slavery thing is ever going to be something I'll be able to get behind with you purebloods,” Darryl muttered.

 

“It's not slavery,” Draco protested, “they  _ want _ to serve. They hate the idea of being free!”

 

“Do they get paid?” Darryl retorted. “Do they even have a choice? No, clearly they don't, because some of you, way back when, decided you needed someone to fold your sheets for you because you're too high and mighty to do it yourself!”

 

“Merlin, no wonder Hermione likes you,” Draco muttered. “You sound just like her when she gets all uppity about 'the plight of the house-elf’. When we get her back, you can join her puke club.”

 

“It's S.P.E.W.,” Theo said, “it's an acronym, and we're getting off the subject.”

 

Darryl and Draco glared at each other for a bit longer before they looked at Theo.

 

“Okay. We have some of Hermione's blood left. Is it enough to bring her into a family?” Theo said.

 

“It uses the same amount as the spell; a few drops would be enough.” Draco held up the vial to show it was still a quarter full. He frowned suddenly, and a look of horror filled his eyes as they flicked from side to side, as if looking for an exit.

 

Theo grimaced. “There's a problem though, isn't there?”

 

Darryl looked from one to the other. “What's that?”

 

Theo sighed, once again cursing his father's choices. “I can bind her to be a part of my family, and gladly would I do it too. With Tinky dead though, I have no house elf to complete the ritual. Potter doesn't have an elf, and neither do the Weasley's. They're the only pureblood families that would take her into their bloodline without question. Well, Longbottom probably would...”

 

“He's overseas,” Draco muttered, looking ill. Theo realised his friend hadn’t thought this through, so caught up in the excitement of the discovery as he was.

 

“What about Parkinson? Would Miss Parkinson…?” Darryl cut off as Theo laughed and shook his head.

 

“Pansy’s family would rather die first.”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Draco said, standing and walking away.

 

Darryl glanced at Theo, confused, but Theo just raised a finger to silence him. Draco stalked around the room for a minute, muttering under his breath.

 

“It's your decision, Draco,” Theo said quietly.

 

“A fact of which I am perfectly aware, thank you!” Draco snapped.

 

Realisation dawned in Darryl’s eyes then, and he grinned at Draco. “Oh! Wow, this must be  _ killing _ you!”

 

Draco stared daggers at the young Auror. “There is more to this than you assume! It is not a decision one can take lightly so I would appreciate it if you didn’t make a mockery of the situation!”

 

Darryl blushed and looked away. “Sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean any offence.”

 

Draco sneered, but Theo knew his friend better than anyone and saw something in those grey eyes and filed it away for later discussion. He watched him stare out of the kitchen window, into the conservatory, or more likely through it to the half-light of dawn beyond. He knew that time was of the essence but didn’t want to interrupt Draco while he worked his way through this. Theo understood that this was far more than it first appeared.

 

Malfoy’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the sink. “She has shown herself to have great ambition, determination, and a willingness to overcome obstacles. I knew this about her, long before this moment, of course. She stood against the Dark Lord, risking her life. Granger is not a woman to shy away from a challenge, and the knowledge of her recent foray into more questionable territory has impressed me greatly.” Draco gave a small smile over his shoulder at Theo. “Maybe there is more Slytherin in her than I expected. Pun intended.”

 

Theo nodded thoughtfully, holding Draco’s eyes and worrying at a fingernail, only a small twitch of his lips betraying his amusement at the comment. Darryl looked between the two men, only his eyes moving, sensing the tension.

 

Draco turned and put his back to the counter. “Mother always found Hermione an interesting person. Her intelligence and insight stood her in good stead, and her compassion towards our family after the War and father’s passing, despite the horrors that were meted upon her in our home… She never forgot it.” Draco sighed heavily, his mind seemingly made up. “I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, last living member of the Malfoy line, declare that it is my decision and honour to accept Hermione Jean Granger as my sister, and a member of the Malfoy family.”

 

Theo stood hurriedly, gesturing at Darryl who was lost in the moment, staring at Draco, open-mouthed. Theo snapped his fingers twice, bringing the young man’s attention back to him abruptly and beckoned rapidly.

 

“I, Theodore… James Nott, head of the Nott family, bear witness.” Theo spoke while moving to stand before Draco, pulling his wand. He was about to lift the athame from the island counter to draw the circle when Draco grabbed his wrist.

 

“I know you hate it, but it won't work without it,” he said quietly.

 

Theo frowned for a moment, then sighed. “I, Theodore  _ Ormerod _ James Nott, head of the Nott family, bear witness.”

 

Lifting the athame, Theo tapped it with his wand. Drawing a circle around himself, the blade traced a line of fire on the kitchen floor. As Theo stepped back, Draco took his place in the circle, and the fire changed hue, becoming a deeper red, moving thickly and seeming to flow rather than crackle.

 

“Do you accept Hermione Jean Granger as a member of your household, a family member for all time? Do you declare her to be the heir of the Malfoy line, eldest and firstborn?”

 

“I do so declare it,” Draco said with only the slightest twist to his lips.

 

Darryl came forward, the vial of Hermione's blood in his hands. Theo drew the magical symbols in the air with the athame, each one crackling into life and settling into the floor around Draco's feet. Holding out his hand, Draco accepted the vial from Darryl, who stepped back again.

 

“With this sacrifice of blood,” Draco intoned, “I declare our bloodline joined, merged as one.” He allowed a thin trickle of the blood to fall onto the floor. The fire leapt upwards, shot through with red and green, silver and gold flecks dancing through it. He lifted the lancet from Darryl’s hands and ran the blade across the back of his wrist. Tilting his hand, he allowed several drops to fall into the circle; the flames responded with more force this time, the red and gold fading completely, green and silver dominating.

 

“Gorky!” Draco called, as Darryl swiftly bound the cut with a white bandage, taking the vial of blood from him and stoppering it again.

 

The small elf appeared within the circle with a small pop. “Master Draco called?” His big eyes widened abruptly as he realised where he was, and Theo could see the thin legs tremble.

 

“Gorky, you will recognise Hermione Jean Malfoy.”

 

The elf dropped to his knees, placing his hand over the puddle of mingled blood. “Gorky recognises Mistress Hermione. Gorky will serve Miss gladly.”

 

With a wave Theo extinguished the flames, the circle fading from sight and taking the blood with it. He leant against the wall to stop himself from falling, as Darryl settled onto one of the stools with a sigh, wiping sweat from his brow. Draco tiredly patted Gorky on the head, and the little creature looked up at his Master with a smile.

 

“Okay,” Draco said. “Gorky, my sister is in trouble, and we need to find her. Can you sense her?”

 

Gorky screwed his eyes shut tight, his hands clenched into fists. The three wizards held their breath, the seconds ticking by. The elf’s ears lifted and he opened his eyes. “Mistress Hermione can be seen, but she is protected by powerful magic.”

 

Theo gave a gasp of relief.  _ She was alive! _ All this time he had been telling himself that she was, convincing himself that she was okay. He could have hugged the little elf just for that pronouncement.

 

“Are you able to go to her?” Draco said.

 

“Yes, Master Draco,” Gorky squeaked, his big eyes swivelling between the three men, wringing his hands. After a moment he screwed up his face, his lower jaw jutting forward pugnaciously. “Hard magic, but Gorky can do it.”

 

“Go then, and take her home. Do not be seen by anyone but Hermione!”

 

~~~

 

She woke abruptly as if startled. The motion set off a string of pains in her head, back and wrist, and she couldn't stop the groan of pain.

 

As her vision cleared, she saw the room around her was cast into shadow, faint shapes just visible at the edge of the weak light, but unidentifiable. Ropes secured her to a chair, and she found that she couldn’t remember much about how she had gotten here, nor how long she had been sat there. 

 

The one thought that kept trying to surface in her confused mind was that Adrian, the friend she had let into her life, was the reason for the last year of hell.

 

He hadn't confessed as such, but every now and again he would comment on the likenesses between her and Theo as captives. He didn't seem pleased by either of them. Least of all when she spat in his face.

 

She now knew that he was deranged. Or terribly misunderstood... She kept blacking out, and every time she awoke, she felt differently about what had happened, and about him. It was as if someone was addling with her memory.

 

The last time she had awoken, she recalled seeing Draco, and when she cried out, begging him to help her, he just stood, laughing at her, calling her names. Adrian arrived at that point and banished Malfoy. Then he soothed her racing heart, comforting her and giving her something to drink, promising it would all be better soon.

 

She had felt so good in his presence that the fact she was hungry, cold, alone and still tied to the chair, didn't occur to her until he had left her in the darkness. 

 

Every now and then she had moments of clarity. Adrian would arrive, they would fight and argue, and in anger, he would cast some spell on her.  She would drift off and forget again.

 

One thing that kept occurring was his attempts to kiss her. No matter what state she was in, every time his lips tried to touch hers she would pull away, or, if she was particularly lucid, lash out. She had successfully kicked him in the groin twice, and bitten his face another time.

 

The loud clatter of an iron wrought door sounded; it was rapidly becoming a noise she either hated or was thankful to hear. She tried to shake her head hoping it would bring her some clarity. It didn't. What was happening to her?

 

“Ahh, my sweet Mina! What mood are we in today?” her captor sang out as he rounded the corner and appeared out of the shadows.

 

“Adrian, please, let me go. What will you gain from all this?”

 

“That’s a shame; you’re having a confused day. You know I can't do that, Mina. If I do that, it's all over. People are talking, I think. I need to move faster, but they will never find us here. All we need is a little more time, and I know you'll be ready.”

 

“Ready for what?”

 

“For our future together, of course! You and I, Mina. We will make it work. Naturally, this isn't quite the way I wanted it to happen. It would have been preferable if you had chosen it more willingly, heeded the call of destiny, but we both know there are feelings there.”

 

“I love Theo.”

 

“I know, my sweet. You say that now, but yesterday you barely remembered his name. We nearly got past your aversion to me kissing you too. You were quite eager, in fact… You wanted to do more, but I’m not quite willing to risk your teeth with my cock  _ just _ yet. Especially as the feeling faded soon afterwards! Time. It's all we need.” He reached out and gently stroked her hair. “That and a few more doses of that special potion you like so much.” 

 

“I would never forget Theo’s name,” Hermione stated angrily, pulling away from his hand.

 

“Oh, but you did, for quite a while. I let you out of here for a bath, and you let me help you wash. You weren't sure at first, but soon relaxed into it.” He sighed dreamily. “Ahh, the feel of your soapy skin under my fingers… It must have been difficult to wash with that broken wrist of yours.” He tutted playfully. “You shouldn't have fought me last week.”

 

“That didn't happen!” she argued, her stomach lurching in horror at the thought of this violation, but suddenly the pain in her wrist made itself known as she tried to extract her hands from the ropes.

 

He wasn't lying.

 

He smirked at the horrified expression on her face. “It's okay, Hermione. One day soon, none of this will register, and we will live happily. I'm confident, if we give it a month, you won't remember anything about Theodore Nott.”

 

“And what do you propose will happen when you let me go? No one will think it's odd?”

 

“Oh, sweet woman of mine. Let you go? We will be bound together forever. I have a friend who can bind us in our love. And everyone else? I don't suppose we will have too many visitors when we move abroad. Best not tell you where, just in case.

 

“Now, let's gets that potion down you. As they say, a potion a day keeps those memories away… well, no one says that, but I think it's catchy.”

 

He grabbed her chin and pushed her head back, forcing her mouth open and watching out for her teeth as she tried to fight him off. She was no match for his strength, and soon the dark grey potion was burning her mouth, trickling down her throat as she coughed, spilling some down her front. Tossing the bottle aside he clamped her mouth shut and pinched her nose until she was forced to swallow.

 

Suddenly released, she sagged forward against the ropes, coughing and spluttering, the burning sensation spreading through her. Her vision blurred as the potion began to work.

 

A tall shadowy figure was walking away, his laughter echoing around the room.

 

She wasn't sure, but she thought she loved that man. 

 

~~~

 

“Keep up, darling!”

 

Particles of ice sprayed into the air with each turn of her skates, and she glanced back over her shoulder at the dark haired man skating after her.

 

His face was beaming with joy, and though her skin was cold, her heart was warm with love and affection.

 

He caught hold of her hands as he drew level, and together they turned in a circle, laughing, filled with a love that could barely be expressed in mere words.

 

He broke away from her, shouting, “Catch me if you can!”

 

With a delighted laugh, she tried to give chase, but something stopped her from moving forward.

 

“Wait, love! I can't move!”

 

“Come on, Mina! Not much further now. Come to me, my love!”

 

No matter how she tried, something tugged at her arm whenever she pushed forwards.

 

“Come back, sweetheart!” she shouted to the rapidly receding figure.

 

“Mina!”

 

“Adrian!”

 

Pain filled her head as she opened in her eyes to weak daylight flooding the basement through the high set windows. She was laying on her back, stretched out on the cold stone floor, part of her wondering why she wasn't in the chair; she was always in the chair. Resolutely she closed her eyes again, ignoring the pulling at her arm.

 

“Mistress,” an urgent voice whispered.

 

“No,” she mumbled, “I want to go back to my dream… I'm losing him…”

 

“You must wake up, Mistress.”

 

“Please, let me sleep…”

 

“Gorky is sorry, Mistress, and Gorky will iron his fingers later if Mistress wants, but…”

 

A ringing slap echoed, and her head rocked to the side.

 

“What the… Ow!” she yelled, lifting a hand to her stinging cheek. Opening her eyes she saw the cringing figure of a house-elf, bowing and trembling, muttering apologies. “Who...?”

 

“Mistress? Wake up, Gorky needs to speak with you.”

 

She was sure she had never met this elf, so wasn’t sure why he was referring to her as his mistress. She looked around, her surroundings were still dim, dirty and eerily quiet.

 

“I don’t know who you are.” Her voice was hoarse, and it came out more as a rasp. 

 

“Some water for you, Mistress.”

 

The house-elf--Gorky?--helped her into a sitting position and passed her a dirty glass filled with water. She took it and drank before thinking, her throat suddenly screaming with thirst. She had finished the glass when she gasped in horror. 

 

“Oh my God, this isn’t poisoned, is it?”

 

“Of course not, Mistress,” he assured her quickly. “Just water. Gorky conjured it special. Mistress is very thirsty. Mistress look as if she hasn’t drank for some time.” 

 

“Why do you keep calling me, Mistress?” she said, her head clearer, though no less painful. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met you.” She studied the elf, desperately trying to picture him in any aspect of her life.

 

“No, Mistress, we have not met. But Gorky is your sworn servant, and happy to serve the Lady Malfoy.” He bowed and smiled. “Master Draco and Mister Nott sent Gorky to rescue you!”

 

“Sorry, what?” Her head was pounding, and her vision was beginning to swim again. “Lady Malfoy? There must be some mistake!” 

 

The house-elf was speaking again, but all she heard were snippets as her mind raced…  _ Hermione Malfoy _ …  _ Master Malfoy bound you… magic ritual… captured... _

 

The image of Draco stood before her, laughing, swam in front of her. So this  _ was _ Malfoy, all along? She should never have doubted Adrian. He had comforted her and looked after her since she lost something… she couldn't remember what. She realised something still didn’t add up, and her heart was at war with her head, but the elf was now staring at her waiting for some sort of answer.

 

“Mistress? Let’s go?”

 

“Go? Go where? I’m tied to the chair.”

 

“Gorky untied you, Mistress. You fell on the floor. We need to go before Pucey comes back! Gorky needs to take you home, to Malfoy Manor.”

 

“Malfoy Manor is not my home, and I am certainly not going anywhere on Malfoy’s orders. I'll wait for Adrian; he will be back soon, and we're going away.” She smiled dreamily, settling herself in the chair once more. “We will finally have a chance to be happy.”

 

“But what about Master Theodore, Mistress?” 

 

“Master Theodore?” She looked at the house-elf, confused. “I don't think I know… Who is Theodore?”

 

The elf frowned at her, then moved away. She watched as he began to search around the cellar picking up the discarded vial nearby. Tentatively he placed a drop of the fluid on his finger and licked it, quickly spitting it back out again.

 

She debated calling for Adrian. This elf was a little odd! Came from nowhere, spouted drivel about Malfoy, Adrian and some man called Theodore… Every time she thought of that name she felt like she should remember something, but at the moment nothing obvious was coming to mind.

 

The elf was abruptly back by her side. “Gorky is sorry, Mistress, but he must keep you safe.”

 

Before she could argue that she didn't need to be kept safe, that she was here with Adrian, she felt the ropes loop around her wrists, tying her once more to the chair. As she went to cry out, a desire to sleep overtook her, and without a word, she drifted off.

 

Her last confused glimpse of the elf was him staring at a potion vial. He clicked his fingers and vanished.

 

~~~

 

Theo had been pacing pretty much ever since Gorky had disappeared. 

 

Malfoy had gotten so sick of him that he had disappeared off to another room in the Manor. Roberts had stayed put for a while, and then went off in search of Draco.

 

A crack sounded with Gorky’s arrival and made Theo nearly jump out of his skin.

 

The elf wasted no time with pleasantries. “Where is Master Draco?” 

 

“Draco!” Theo roared, wand pressed to his own throat, his voice resonating around the Manor. 

 

Moments later, the two men hurried through the door to the study.

 

“Gorky, tell us everything,” Draco commanded.

 

“Mistress Malfoy was tied to a chair and asleep when Gorky arrived. It was enchanted, and Gorky will need to apologise to Mistress Malfoy when she recovers… Gorky is sorry for slapping Lady Malfoy, Master Draco.” The elf cringed pathetically, wringing his hands and hopping from foot to foot.

 

Theo was about to say something when Draco’s hand came up stopping in his tracks.

 

“You didn't do anything I haven't dreamt of doing myself, Gorky. Carry on.”

 

“When Mistress awoke, she was confused, and Gorky feels his explanation may not have made sense. She is taking a potion that confuses her. She doesn't remember Mister Theodore, nor what he means to her. Gorky found this bottle with a little of the potion left inside. It might be what Mister Pucey is using on her.

 

“Mistress wouldn't come with Gorky without a fight, and Gorky thought she might be hurt if Gorky forced her! Gorky tied her back up and sent her into a dreamless sleep. Mister Pucey is using the potion to change her memories. Gorky does not think it will be long before Mistress forgets much of who she is!” His large eyes were open as wide as they could go, hands pulling his large ears down around his chin.

 

Theo couldn't hold it in any longer. “Has he tortured her? Was she in pain?” 

 

“Gorky thinks a broken wrist, maybe concussion, as Gorky saw a cut and bruise on her head. He is not beating Mistress, he lets her hurt herself, trying to escape.”

 

Theo put his head in his hands. He had failed her. Again. So many times he had failed the woman he loved.

 

“Nott, pull yourself together,” Malfoy said, striding over to the bookshelf with the empty bottle. “This is excellent news.” 

 

”Excellent news?!” Theo spat. “Excellent news that Hermione is hurting, being mentally tortured, and has forgotten me? Oh, sorry, yes I can see why you would think this is excellent!”

 

Both Roberts and Gorky had shrunk into the shadows leaving the two friends to face off.

 

Draco span round, his face thunderous. “Have you forgotten what I just did to save that bloody woman? I've accepted her as the rightful Malfoy heir! I've given up everything for a woman who hates my guts, and could kick me out on my arse anytime she wants! You think I'd do that if I wasn't doing it for the right reasons?” He glared at Theo, a disgusted expression twisting his lips. “Arrogance doesn't suit you, Nott. Leave it to the experts, yeah?

 

“It's excellent news,” he continued more calmly, “because Gorky got in, which means we can too. Excellent news because we have the actual potion to reverse engineer, rather than nothing! And it's excellent news that she is  _ alive _ , and in a reasonably sound state, by the sounds of it. 

 

“I would appreciate it if you would trust me, and stop suspecting me of the worst on all occasions!”

 

With his piece said, Draco turned back to the bookcase and started his hunt for the book he was after.

 

Theo rubbed the back of his neck, ashamed at both his outburst and for once again not trusting his friend when he had, as he had pointed out, gone above and beyond for Hermione and for him.

 

“Draco, I'm sorry. You are….”

 

“A great friend, I know. Now forget it and start trying to break down that potion and work out what it's made of; you're the one with a perfect score in your Potions NEWT. Roberts, you come and help me search these books for memory altering potions.” 

 

For the next two hours, the two men searched, while Theo slowly separated the various components of the potion. Each time he identified one conclusively he shouted it out to the others, along with potions he knew that used it, steering their search. They trawled through every bookcase in Malfoy Manor when finally, with a cry of excitement, Roberts yelled, “I’ve got it!”

 

“Merlin, Roberts, you squeal like a girl,” Draco sighed.

 

“Turn you on?” Roberts winked. 

 

“Oh, sweet Merlin… give it here,” Draco replied, snatching the book. He read through the page and nodded. “Gorky, does this sound like Hermione’s symptoms?”

 

The elf read the page Draco pointed and nodded. “Yes, Master. Mistress kept glazing over every time Gorky mentioned Mister Theo, but got angry at your name, sir.”

 

“Hmm… I bet she did. Bad news, Nott. Antidote takes over twelve hours to brew. We will be ready at about one in the morning, or later, which could be good news... More likely for him to be asleep. We can be in and out before he even knows we're there.” 

 

Theo nodded. “Then let's get on with it.” 

 

~~~

 

Over the last half a day, they had met with Harry and Dawlish and, rather than risk Adrian being home, agreed that they would draw Adrian away from the house with a fake emergency. The others could then slip in, rescue Hermione and get out again. Once she was safe, Harry and Dawlish would arrest Adrian.

 

“We won’t make a move on him until we get the all clear,” Harry said as he and Dawlish prepared to leave. “If something goes wrong we don’t want to risk him fleeing. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me how you managed to do...” Harry stopped, seeing Malfoy’s innocent smile, and Roberts’ guilty expression. “You know what, less I know…”

 

Once they were alone once more, Draco continued to strategise.

 

“Gorky can transport everyone at the same time, but no more than three. The more times we break through his wards, the more likely he is to recognise an issue. Although this will be a large break, it's better than three times over.”

 

“Are you sure about this, Gorky?” Roberts asked. “It seems like that's a hell of a lot of magic to take all three of us.”

 

“Gorky is sure.” The house-elf glared at him, and Theo was sure he heard him say ‘ _ bloody muggle-borns _ ’ under his breath but couldn't swear on it.

 

“We can’t afford to leave anyone behind,” Draco said. “It’s best to have as many eyes as possible when we go.”

 

Midnight came and went, and the potion was ready at last. While it cooled, Roberts used the Floo to let Harry know they were nearly ready, and the antidote was bottled three times over, in case of any issues. They waited, the tension mounting; Theo paced the room, Roberts sat still but his knees bounced constantly, Draco gnawed at a knuckle.

 

Theo was about ready to explode, so nearly jumped out of his skin when the silvery stag abruptly cantered through a wall. Roberts jerked to his feet, and Draco flinched and swore. Gorky screamed and leapt behind the sofa. There was a lot of nervous laughter as the trio glanced at each other, Gorky simply peering out from the behind the sofa.

 

The Patronus approached and opened its mouth. “He’s here,” said Harry’s voice. “Good to go.”

 

The stag vanished in a shimmer of silver sparks, and the silence left behind was deafening.

 

“Okay,” said Theo, “here we go.”

 

“Masters must make sure they are holding tight, and must not let go!” Gorky looked around at everyone as he padded forward, his eyes wide; his knees were trembling slightly. “Gorky does not know where you will land if you do!”

 

They all took hold of the little elf’s arms--his skin was cold and clammy, and Theo knew Gorky was as nervous as the rest of them--and after a steadying breath, Gorky clicked his fingers.

 

It was unlike Apparition and, rather than a squeezing sensation, it felt more like a rough hand had grabbed him and dragged him rapidly sideways. He stumbled as solid ground appeared once more beneath his feet, and heard the others fall too. Gorky sank to his knees, panting heavily.

 

They had appeared in some kind of antechamber, an open doorway ahead leading to a flight of steps heading downwards. The room was bare of decor and looked like it had been neglected for some time; it reminded Theo of the warehouse he had been kept in; it had an abandoned feel to it, and he felt a flutter of fear tremble its way through him.

 

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I'm okay,” he whispered, patting Draco’s hand gratefully; he was here for Hermione, and that would be enough to get him through. He turned to check on the others, noticing that Gorky was still on his knees.

 

Roberts was crouched at the elf’s side. “Are you okay, Gorky?”

 

“Leave me,” Gorky hissed, waving a tired hand at Roberts. “Gorky will be fine! Go save, Mistress. Gorky just needs a moment before he can do the return journey, that is all.”

 

“I said it would be too much for your magic...” Roberts began.

 

“Gorky knows his limits, muggle-born!” the elf said, annoyed, waving Roberts away. “Gorky will be fine. Now go!”

 

“You heard him, Roberts,” whispered Draco. “Quickly, we need to get in and out of here, fast.”

 

The three men hurried down the steps, coming out into the large open space of a cellar. In the dead of night, it was pitch black. Draco lit his wand and held it over his head, Theo and Roberts followed suit. Together they sent the bright orbs of light up to the ceiling, illuminating the area.

 

All around the outer edges were crates and boxes, many covered in sheets, coated in dust. The centre was clear, and Theo felt a surge of emotion as he saw her, tied to an uncomfortable looking wooden chair.

 

Her hair, once unruly and full of bounce, lay lank around her face. She had lost weight, even in such a short time. Her wrist, as Gorky had said, looked broken, the skin of her forearm badly bruised, an irregular lump around the joint. He was relieved to see that she had not been severely injured.

 

They rushed over, and whilst Roberts kept a lookout, Draco pulled the antidote from his pocket. Theo carefully untied her, applying a healing spell to the broken wrist. It would need to be seen by a medic, but it would have to suffice for now. 

 

Once untied, Theo shifted her slightly, holding her in a position that allowed Draco to administer the potion. As he started to tip it, she woke, sputtering and flailing wildly. The bottle was knocked from Draco’s hand, and she spat in Draco’s face, screaming like a banshee, feet kicking out at him.

 

“Hold her steady, Nott, for fuck’s sake!”

 

“I’m trying to!” Theo growled, feeling like he was suddenly fighting with a very angry lioness. “Shh… it's okay, Hermione. We're here to help, please stop fighting us.”

 

Roberts moved over, slipping another bottle of the antidote into Draco’s hand.

 

“This is ridiculous,” Draco muttered, lifting his wand.

 

Theo flinched. “No, Draco, don’t…”

 

“ _ Stupefy! _ ”

 

The jet of red light caught Hermione in the chest and knocked her backwards, sending her and Theo to the ground.

 

“Damn it, Draco… It’ll be easier if she can walk!”

 

“It’ll be easier if she stops flailing around like an idiot!” Draco retorted, kneeling down and carefully pouring the potion down Hermione’s throat. “I pulled my punch, so she shouldn’t be out for too long. We’ll give it a couple of minutes then try and wake her.”

 

Still angry, Theo lifted Hermione and carefully lowered her into the chair. Watching to make sure she was steady, he knelt in front of her, her hands held in his. He rested his forehead on her knees and tried to get his breathing under control.

 

Her voice breathed his name, and he looked up into her confused, scared expression. 

 

“Hermione! Are you okay?”

 

“Where’s… where’s Adrian? I’m so tired…”

 

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he said urgently, holding her head up. Her eyes rolled in her head, and he gently shook her by the shoulder. “Mina! Wake up!”

 

She jerked awake at that name. “Who… Oh, hi…” she murmured sleepily. “I think I was dreaming about you. You should go though… I don’t think Adrian would be happy to find you in our bed.”

 

“What…?” Theo said, his heart dropping. “You share a bed?”

 

“Don’t be stupid, Nott,” Draco sneered. “She’s clearly been stuck in this damn chair the whole time! It’s the rubbish her mind is telling her. Here, allow me.”

 

Theo gave a cry of anger as Draco slapped Hermione around the face.

 

She jerked awake again with a shout, lifting a trembling hand to her face. “Why does everyone keep hitting me!?”

 

“Hermione, do you remember me?” Theo said.

 

She looked at him, slightly confused. Then she glared at Draco, stood to one side and rubbing his stinging hand. Looking back at Theo she smiled. “Yes, Theo. Of course, I do.”

 

He could have cried when she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

 

Hesitant, shuffling noises brought Theo's attention around to the stairs.

 

Hermione leant on him, dizzy and tired, her legs still weak and trembling, but she was alive, and that was all he cared about. Draco stood on the other side, pulling her arm around his shoulders. It would be a while before the potion worked its way through her system and counteracted the one Pucey had fed her. Theo just wanted to get her away from here now.

 

“Who's there?” Roberts called out, wand raised to shine the light in the direction of the steps.

 

“Master?” Theo could hear Gorky’s voice tremble and the footsteps stumbled slightly.

 

“Gorky?” Draco called. “Down here. Are you ready to go?”

 

The little elf staggered into the light of Roberts’ wand, his eyes wide and frightened. The front of the sack he wore had a rapidly spreading, dark red stain in the centre. “Gorky… is sorry... Master Draco…”

 

The elf pitched forward onto his face, the handle of a knife jutting out the centre of his back.

 

“Well, well, well... what do we have here?” Adrian asked as he followed the elf into the pool of light.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 will post on Tuesday 23rd October


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4, Chapter 5

“I suppose I should congratulate you all,” Adrian said with a condescending smile, twirling his wand through his fingers. “You managed to do the seemingly impossible and break through a Fidelius Charm. That's no small feat.”

 

“Adrian Pucey,” Roberts said, lifting his wand, “you are under arrest for the kidnapping, false imprisonment, and torture of Theodore Nott, and the kidnapping and false imprisonment of Hermione Granger… well, Malfoy. I guess we can add on the murder of a house-elf too!”

 

Adrian lifted his hands, a strange look in his eye. “Hermione Malfoy? Pray tell, how did that come about? You letting anyone at your woman now, Theo?”

 

“Come quietly, Pucey, and this doesn't have to get ugly,” Roberts said, stepping forward.

 

“Oh, but where would the fun in that be? I suppose you had better add more murder to my charges. I couldn't spare the time to make sure Potter and Dawlish were dead, but I intend to finish Nott off, and kill a couple of interfering Aurors!” Adrian pointed his wand at Roberts.

 

“ _ Incarcerous _ !” Roberts shouted, already moving to the side as the chains whipped out at their target.

 

Adrian was ready for them and cut them apart. His wand dipped and stabbed, and a blast of dark energy ripped across the room.

 

“ _ Protego _ !” Roberts shouted, barely getting a shield up in time. The impact spun him, unprepared for the force of the unknown spell.

 

“ _ Sectumsempra _ !” Adrian cried, slashing his wand at Roberts before the younger man could recover.

 

A flash of white light enveloped him, and he gave a shout of pain, blood spurting from his chest and neck as he fell backwards. The clash had lasted mere moments; Draco and Theo, hampered as they were by Hermione's limp form, were unable to react before Adrian turned to them.

 

“You son of a bitch,” Theo growled. “Why? What do you hope to gain from all this?”

 

“I would have thought it obvious, Nott. Hermione’s love and devotion, of course.”

 

Theo glanced at Draco, who nodded and took Hermione's weight. Theo slipped from under her arm and stepped between them and Adrian. “She's never been yours…”

 

“SHE WAS  **ALWAYS** MINE!” Adrian screamed, spittle flecking his lips. “Ever since we worked together, she has loved  _ me _ , but others have confused her, made her discount her true feelings!”

 

Theo glanced over to Roberts, seeing the young man struggling to recover his wand. His hand was clutched tightly to his neck, leaving a trail of blood as he inched across the floor. There were crates and boxes over there with dust sheets covering them; perfect cover if he could get there. He saw Draco edging towards them too, keeping Hermione on her feet, trying not to draw Adrian's attention.

 

“How can you believe that?” Theo said, stepping away a bit more, his wand held loosely in his hand.

 

“I don't have to ‘believe’ it. It's the truth!”

 

“You're insane, you know that, right? Everything you've done because you think Hermione loves you, even though there's nothing really there?”

 

“Oh, there is something there, Nott.” Adrian smiled nastily. “You didn't see how she leant on me while you were missing, how she craved my attention. My touch.”

 

“And you think that all this… kidnapping, torture... murder? You think she would condone this?”

 

“It has all been for her!”

 

Theo shook his head. “You're not a killer, Adrian. That's clear because you kept me alive, rather than just getting rid of me. That's what I want to understand; why?”

 

“What does it matter? I'm going to kill you now,” Adrian hissed, raising his wand.

 

Theo lifted his own wand. “ _ Incendio _ !” he shouted, diving to the side as the bolt of fire roared across the open space. He saw Draco drag Hermione into cover, then reach out and haul a groaning Roberts after him.

 

Adrian batted the fireball back at Theo, narrowly missing him. The crates Theo had dived behind slid towards him, scraping across the floor under Pucey's command. He saw stars as he was shoved backwards by the impact, his head striking the box behind. For a moment he was pinned between the two.

 

“ _ Depulso! _ ” he said, sending the box spinning away from him. He sagged slightly, before getting his feet underneath him again and putting himself back into cover before Adrian saw him.

 

~~~

 

The gentle slapping roused her from a stupor, and Hermione fended off Draco's hands.

 

“Alright, alright!” she mumbled, her words slurred. Her head ached and throbbed painfully in time with her heartbeat.

 

“Come on, get it together! Theo needs our help.”

 

She looked around, noting she was still in the basement. There was a hint of smoke and the sour smell of copper in the air. Draco turned his attention from her and began to almost sing under his breath. There was something different about him, something in her that viewed him differently. She noticed Roberts then.

 

“Oh God… is he okay?”

 

Draco just shook his head, continuing to draw his wand over Darryl's body, his voice low and soothing as he sang the healing spell Snape had used on him all those years ago.

 

“Come on out and face me, Nott!” shouted Adrian from elsewhere in the room. “I promise, I'll make it quick!”

 

Leaving Draco's side, Hermione shuffled closer to the edge of the crates nearby, peering around to see. Adrian was moving away, deeper into the room, wand held out. Turning, Hermione plucked Roberts’ wand from the floor.

 

“ _ Stupefy _ !” she yelled, the jet of red light launching towards Adrian's back.

 

He spun at her shout, a shield raised to block, a Stinging jinx already coming back her way. Throwing herself back into cover Hermione felt the heat of the spell as it buzzed past her face.

 

“Don't fight me, my darling,” Adrian called, his tone light and affectionate. “I'll deal with these intruders, and then we'll have our whole lives ahead of us!”

 

Hermione blinked rapidly as her head spun alarmingly. It sounded like the truth for a moment… like that was how it should be. Her stomach flipped in protest, and she breathed deeply a couple of times.

 

“I already told you, Adrian, I will never be yours!” She spoke hesitantly, unsure why she said these words. 

 

“You're simply befuddled, love! I tried to show you the truth, but you continued to pine for him. I even tried to return him to you, to show you how unworthy he was! He was never strong enough for you.”

 

Something in his tone struck her as wrong, and she felt the doubt in her mind clear. “Draco,” she hissed, “as soon as Roberts can move, get him out of here.”

 

Draco shook his head again. “Can't you feel it? We're stuck here for now.”

 

She cursed. She could sense the Anti-Apparition wards around the house now he had pointed them out. “Gorky…?”

 

“Dead,” he snapped, “or dying. Now be quiet, I'm concentrating.”

 

“Fine, you stay quiet too then.” She waved the wand in a complicated pattern, settling concealment wards around the pair to keep them hidden. Once done, she crouched low and disappeared into the shadows.

 

Her head was still spinning, and a surge of dizziness forced her to stop and lean against a box, hand to her forehead. It was the aftereffects of the potion, no doubt. She could almost hear Madam Pomfrey telling her that she had to lie down and rest. The spell passed quickly, however, and she continued, albeit at a slower pace.

 

~~~

 

Fire.

 

His impulsive attack had hit a pile of cloth covered crates in the far corner of the basement. The covering had clearly been as dry as tinder, as it caught instantly. The hungry flames were licking at the boxes themselves, stretching higher towards the ceiling of the room.

 

How long it would be before things were out of hand, Theo had no clue. He held onto the hope, as he crept along a line of old boxes that Adrian didn't know the layout of this basement very well; he lived here, sure, but hopefully, he hadn't had cause to come down here a lot.

 

He hoped that Draco had managed to save Roberts. He knew the spell Adrian had cast, how Potter had used it against Draco in their sixth year. It was a nasty curse, fatal if one didn't know the counterspell, or if your healing charms weren't up to scratch.

 

He hoped Hermione would come round soon and shake off the effects of the potion Pucey had been feeding her. She had struck out at Adrian, but after Pucey's response, she had gone quiet again. As long as she hadn't fallen under his spell again...

 

He hoped a lot of things right now.

 

Theo remembered Pucey being particularly skilful in a duel, something that had no doubt stood him in good stead for his Auror training. With Roberts down, Draco probably distracted by saving his teammate’s life, and Hermione's allegiance currently in question, Theo would have to be careful.

 

The scuff of a shoe on stone was the only warning he had. He threw himself aside, his shield charm shattering as a flash of magenta soared overhead.

 

Spinning on the floor he flung up another shield, catching and deflecting Pucey's next spell. Lifting his wand he sent a stream of red light towards the man, meeting the yellow light that sprung from Adrian's wand. The two beams clashed, wrapped around each other, crackling sparks of energy flickering like embers.

 

Theo pushed against it, the yellow light forcing his own magic backwards. He felt his knees slide across the stone floor, sweat standing on his brow.

 

“You could never best me, Nott,” Adrian said, his voice sounding strained.

 

“Not as easy as you thought though, is it?” Theo replied, his own voice tight.

 

With a cry he forced the spells to break, instantly pivoting and rolling into cover again, hearing Adrian's shout of pain.

 

Theo found himself back near the entrance, Gorky’s little body crumpled on the stones in a pool of blood. The knife was gone.

 

Scrambling to his feet again Theo ran into the open space, watching Pucey carefully as the man stepped out of cover, wand raised in salute.

 

“Shall we finish this then, Nott? You're a halfway decent opponent, but I think this has gone on long enough. Let's get this over with.”

 

“With pleasure,” Theo said with a sardonic bow, his eyes fixed on Adrian.

 

“En guard!”

 

Theo struck first, a rapid jinx dancing its way across the room. Adrian swayed aside, not even bothering to counter it. His own reply, a cutting curse, was caught on Theo's shield spell.

 

Quick as a flash they cast and defended, back and forth, each duelling with everything they had. A cutting spell, only just turned aside, nearly took Theo's arm off. The flash of light ricocheted towards the ceiling, slicing neatly through one of the roof beams. Both combatants were momentarily distracted as a grey bird launched itself into the air, disturbed by the broken beam, flapping and screeching at them. A violent hex that would almost certainly have struck Theo's head caught the bird in mid flight and threw it aside like a rag doll. Neither gave the bird any further consideration, concentrating solely on the other man.

 

Theo found his anger growing as the battle continued; this man was the source of all his woes, his pain and torment, the reason he was a broken mess. His spells became more deadly, escalating the danger. He felt the desire to kill steal over his thoughts, just to rip the bastard apart, do to Adrian what he had done to Theo. He had no love of the Dark Arts, but neither was he unfamiliar with their sinister pull.

 

Dodging a stinging jinx, he struck with his wand. “ _ Crucio! _ ” he cried, feeling all that righteous anger and pain flood through him; it bled from him into the spell, twisting his guts with delicious pleasure.

 

Adrian gave a cry as his muscles tightened and nerve endings lit up with fire. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, head bowed.

 

Theo kept the curse locked tight upon him, bearing down with everything he had.

 

“No!”

 

He lost his concentration at Hermione's horrified cry, the curse faltering and failing. Adrian collapsed to the floor.

 

Theo turned, seeing her staring him in dismay. “Hermione…”

 

She lifted Roberts’ wand. “I won’t let you hurt him!” she cried. “ _ Stupefy! _ ”

 

He was so surprised he couldn’t move, only watch as the bolt of red filled his vision.

 

_ What have I done? _ Hermione felt a wave of panic flow through her as she cast her spell, her head rebelling against the commands of her body.  _ I am  _ not _ in love with Adrian! Why am I defending him!? _

 

Draco burst from cover and threw himself at Theo, knocking him out of the path of the spell, taking the hit on his shoulder with a grunt of pain. Hermione winced as the pair of them fell to the floor in a tangled heap.

 

“Well done, my darling Mina!” Adrian had clambered to his feet and recovered his wand. “Now to finish this.”

 

Hermione twitched slightly.  _ He doesn’t get to call you that… _

 

“Up you get, Nott!” Adrian said, hauling Theo up by his collar and slamming him against a crate. “Time to die.”

 

Draco’s arms twitched weakly, and he groaned, trying to gather his legs beneath him again. Adrian levelled a kick his way, striking him in the head. Malfoy dropped and lay still, his head lolled to one side.

 

_Only Theo can call you that…_ _but I love Adrian… he told me…_

 

“You’re not a killer, Adrian,” Theo said thickly, his head spinning from the impact against the floor and the crate.

 

“I didn’t kill  _ you _ , no. In retrospect, it might have been a better idea than letting you live and then relying on your damaged mind to mess up your relationship with Hermione. It nearly worked!”

 

“Not nearly enough,” Hermione spat. “I am never going to be yours! Release him!”

 

Adrian looked over his shoulder at her. “Mina, darling! How can you say such a thing? We love each other!”

 

“No, Adrian,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not going to let you back into my head! Whatever it was you were feeding me is not working any more! Let… him… go!”

 

“Mina…”

 

“You don’t get to call me that!” she yelled, magic sparking from her fingers.

 

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Very well.  _ Torquentia! _ ” His wand swished through the air, and a jet of blue light struck her in the midriff, lifting and throwing her backwards.

 

Theo saw his wand, lying on the floor just behind Adrian. With the man momentarily distracted Theo jabbed him in the stomach with his free hand. As Pucey grunted in surprise, Theo pulled himself free and dove for his wand. His fingers closed on the wooden handle, just as everything went dark and a horrible, gut-wrenching smell assailed his senses.

 

The hessian bag still stained and marked from his weeks of captivity, smothered his mind with its awful scent. He couldn’t stop the almost animal shriek of fear.

 

Coughing, winded from the impact, Hermione had seen Adrian pull the hessian bag from his inner pocket, watched as he yanked it over Theo’s head. Theo collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, trying to pull the accursed bag from his head. His screams of fear tore at her heart. Scrambling to her feet, she saw Adrian lift a large, bloodstained knife and she ran forward, wand raised, a vicious curse in her mind.

 

The blast of darkened purple leapt from her wand. She felt a moment of victory until Adrian dropped the knife and Disapparated. The curse whipped through the empty space, striking a crate and shattering it into kindling.

 

Casting about for him she saw Theo finally rip the bag from his head. He lay there, panting for breath, his whole body shaking.

 

“Theo,” she cried, “are you okay?”

 

He couldn't answer. His heart was beating so hard within his chest it hurt.

 

A sudden presence behind her made Hermione scream. A powerful arm wrapped around her throat in a savage choke hold and she felt Adrian begin to squeeze.

 

“I only wanted us to be happy!” Adrian growled, twisting to avoid Hermione’s flailing feet and fists. “Why couldn’t everyone just let us have that happiness?”

 

His other hand pressed on the back of her head, pushing it forward. Almost instantly her vision blurred as she scrabbled at his arm.

 

_ He's cutting off the blood supply to my brain. I can't breathe! Can’t think… _

 

“You brought me to this,” Adrian hissed in her ear, leaning back and starting to lift her from her feet. “And if I can't have you, then  _ he _ won't either. Goodbye, Mina!”

 

Memories flashed through Hermione's mind; memories of being pinned, helpless, of torture, laughter. Bellatrix was long dead, but still, the memory remained. Everything was tinged black at the edges.

 

Instinct took over, Roberts’ few lessons coming flooding back to her. Anger surged through her limbs, and she grabbed Adrian's arm with both hands. With what little leverage she had, she pushed upwards, lifting her legs into the air. Her last breath burst from her lungs as she powered her legs back down, crouching and yanking Adrian off balance, tugging his arm away from her throat with all her strength.

 

Staggered, his grip loosened a fraction, and Hermione struck. Quick as a flash she flicked her hand back and down, between his legs, hearing his pained grunt. Grabbing the pressure point in his wrist and twisting it, she pushed his elbow up with her other hand, wrenching the limb viciously as she slipped her head free and drew a ragged breath. The sharp crack as the arm broke was loud in the basement. Adrian shrieked in pain as she continued to push, driving him down onto the ground.

 

“And I told you,” she shouted, standing and powering her foot into his side repeatedly. “You. Don't get. To call. Me. That!”

 

Staggering backwards she gasped for breath, watching Adrian carefully as he writhed on the floor. Her feet tangled and she stumbled, screaming as someone grabbed her shoulders.

 

“It's okay... it's okay. It's just me!”

 

“Theo!” She twisted round, clutching him tightly.

 

His arms wrapped around her. “It'll be alright now. You got him.” He chuckled lightly. “Merlin’s Beard, did you get him! Where did you learn to do that?”

 

“Darryl,” she said. “He taught me a few self-defence techniques.”

 

“Well, I’ll bear that in mind. And remember never to annoy you… Ever!”

 

Hermione smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “What are we going to do about him?” she murmured after a moment.

 

Theo frowned, gently standing and disentangling himself from her arms. “I know what  _ I  _ want to do to him...” He walked towards the stricken man, stooping and grabbing the handle of the discarded knife.

 

“Theo…?” Hermione’s unsteady voice followed him, but it was muted, heard through cotton wool.

 

The handle felt warm in his hand, almost like it was alive. His flesh shrank at the feeling of it, knowing that it was the knife Adrian had used on him; unlike the bag, though he was able to control himself. The fear tried to creep into his skull, but it had no grip. A coldness was spreading through him.

 

He walked past Draco’s unconscious form, his face a mask of blood. He saw Roberts in the shadows to one side, his clothes and the floor beneath him covered in the man’s blood. Gorky lay a little further on, lying in a crimson pool, small and pathetic. Theo thought of what Adrian had said about Potter and Dawlish, how he had left them for dead.

 

He kicked Adrian’s wand aside, barely hearing it clatter into the shadows. Pucey had rolled onto his back; his face was bloody where Hermione had slammed him into the ground, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle.

 

“I’m not gonna lie, Pucey,” Theo said through gritted teeth, “you look like shit. Wasn’t that what you said to me when you ‘rescued’ me?”

 

“I would, and have, killed for her. You can’t say the same.” Adrian turned his face away and spat blood. “You’re not worthy of her, Nott.”

 

Those words made Theo’s eye twitch, reminded of another conversation, long ago. “I feel sorry for whatever poor soul you killed in pursuit of this…  _ thing _ you thought you had. You’re right, I have never killed for her, but I would die for her.”

 

“Give me the knife, then,” Adrian said with a bloodstained grin, “I’ll help you.”

 

Theo gave a huff of laughter. “You're going to Azkaban, Adrian. The only question is whether you're going to go quietly, or not.” He hefted the knife. “I find myself hoping you'll continue to resist. Not that I need much of an excuse.”

 

“It seems that it's my turn to point out that you're not a killer.”

 

Theo crouched, laying the blade across Adrian's throat. “Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Pucey, and I've been seriously debating whether the second one could be any harder than the first.” He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath, cursing himself for letting Pucey rile him up. 

 

Adrian simply smiled wider, enjoying Theo's obvious discomfort. “Well, sounds like that will be an awkward conversation, Nott.”

 

“One you won't be around to hear,” Theo snarled, swinging the knife back over his shoulder. He closed his ears to Hermione's cry as he struck.

 

~~~

 

Theo leant against a crate, simply concentrating on controlling his breathing. He nodded at Draco as he walked past, his pale face streaked with blood from the cut on his forehead. Hermione had healed the wound before leaving the basement; she hadn't looked at Theo.

 

He understood that at least. More than he had ever expected had been revealed about himself. He didn't know what this meant for them.

 

Quiet voices reached his ears; Roberts and Draco.

 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, his voice incredulous.

 

“It’s dying, Draco.”

 

“It's a  _ pigeon _ , rookie.”

 

“I saw it happen… Pucey's spell caught it in midair…” There were tears in the young man's voice.

 

“At the risk of repeating myself, Roberts, it's a fucking rat with wings… why the hell do you care?”

 

“Could you…?

 

“You want me to heal the pigeon? Are you serious?”

 

Theo smiled at the affront in Draco's voice. He could imagine his friend's face too.

 

“Please, Draco… Miss Granger has my wand; otherwise, I'd do it myself.”

 

There was silence for a moment then, “You really are pathetic, you know that, right?”

 

A moment later there was a faint crackle and a sudden frantic flapping of wings. Theo watched the pigeon launch itself over the crate, heading for the stairs and out into the main house.

 

“Happy now?” Draco said, amusement in his voice. “And no, I'm not cleaning  _ that  _ up for you. Think of it as an idiot tax!” Draco and Roberts came out from behind the crate, Malfoy supporting the injured man. “Come on, we need to get you to St Mungo's and get some dittany on those wounds before they scar up.”

 

Theo pushed himself to his feet, grinning at the pair. The front of Roberts’ coat was covered in pigeon shit.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 will post on Friday 26th October


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4: Chapter 6

Smoke had damaged the edges of the photo, but the image was still clearly visible, as was the person stood in the background.

 

“No wonder he stole it,” Theo muttered, placing it back on Harry's desk. “I mean you can see he's crazy, just by the way he's staring at Hermione.” Unable to help himself he picked it up again. “He wasn't even supposed to be in that shot. He's just… lurking in the background.”

 

Harry gestured towards the ripped edge with a bandaged hand, his bruised face, now going a horrible yellow-brown in places, twisted in a wry smile. “And you've been cut out of it,” 

 

“I see that,” Theo said dryly. “I noticed this picture was missing from Hermione's flat, a long time ago… Merlin, it feels like forever. Didn't even notice he was in it, to be honest.”

 

“Pucey must have taken it at some point when he was at Hermione's flat; presumably before you were taken, if you say you noticed it missing.”

 

“I just assumed it was buried under her paperwork somewhere.”

 

“Well, we found it in one of the upstairs rooms, along with… There was significant evidence that Adrian planned the whole thing, which corroborates everyone's stories. Handy, as it makes this an even easier file to close.”

 

“I never did get a chance to thank you, Harry.”

 

Harry looked up in surprise. “What for?”

 

“Taking Draco into your confidence and getting him to talk to me.”

 

Harry smiled. “I'm just glad he was able to get through to you. After we noticed Adrian unravelling, Malfoy was brought back in, in secret. I just went along with Adrian's charade until we could bring him down. With Hermione missing and the Fidelius in place, we were struggling to find a way of finishing the job though.” Harry leant forward. “How exactly  _ did _ you break through the Charm?”

 

Theo grinned. “Ask me no questions, Harry, I'll tell you no lies.”

 

Leaning back in his chair Harry nodded thoughtfully, wincing slightly as his injuries twinged. “Okay, we'll just pretend something perfectly legal happened last week.”

 

Glancing out through the window Theo saw Hermione in conversation with a similarly bashed up Dawlish, with Roberts and Draco sat nearby.

 

“What about Stan?” he asked after a moment.

 

“Poor guy was innocent. Just a Squib with no family to look out for him. Adrian found out about him and faked the evidence to make Stan look guilty as hell. Probably the one who killed him during the raid too.”

 

At least that answered the question of where Stan had gotten the baby photos of Theo; he hadn't, simply manufactured pictures that  _ could  _ have been him. Theo had known in his heart that his father would never have kept a collection of photos; he hadn't been that kind of man.

 

“So,” Harry said with forced casualness, noting the way Theo's gaze kept drifting out to Hermione, “how're things?”

 

“'How’re things’? You mean have Hermione and I had a serious talk yet?”

 

“Clearly not,” Harry said, rolling his eyes, “or things wouldn't be so damn awkward, and she wouldn't be so snippy with me. I know that much, at least! Have you at least talked to someone? It's been nearly a week.”

 

Theo shrugged noncommittally.

 

“If I could make you do it, I'd march you to a Muggle psychiatrist I know and  _ make _ you talk!”

 

“You know us Slytherins, Harry. We're not really one for our open and honest hearts.”

 

“Well, as a friend--and I hope I can still consider you a friend--I would urge you to try it. And make sure she knows you're trying too. She can be stubborn so it may take some time before she comes around.”

 

“I know what we need to talk about.”

 

“Then what's stopping you?”

 

“It requires me to be more open with someone than I have ever been,” Theo muttered.

 

“There's no one better to be honest with than Hermione Granger. You give her your trust, and she will move heaven and earth to protect you, even if the method is illegal.”

 

Theo glanced at the man opposite sharply. Harry looked back at him with an innocent smile.

 

“No, Theo, I told you, I have no idea how you broke through the Fidelius.” Harry stood, moving to the door. “Hermione didn't say a word about Blood Magic either.”

 

~~~

 

Hermione sighed, looking down at the splintered wand. She has been so happy to get it back the first time, so relieved to be rid of Bellatrix's.

 

And now it was broken. It was a fitting metaphor for the last year, she mused with a rueful grin.

 

A knock at her door stirred her from her maudlin thoughts. Before she could stand, Ginny placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

 

“Let Blaise get it,” she said, her husband already walking towards the door.

 

“I can answer my own door, Gin,” Hermione grumbled. “Adrian's gone, and he’s not going to be knocking on my door, even if he wasn't!”

 

“Mio caro amico!” Blaise cried suddenly, and there was the sound of back-slapping and laughter. “Come in, come in! How are you?”

 

“I'm fine, my friend,” said Theo, and Hermione felt her skin tingle with goosebumps at the sound of his voice. “It's good to see you. I didn't expect you to be here. How's baby Luca?”

 

“He's great! Molly's babysitting while we're babysitting.”

 

Hermione's mouth dropped open in offence, staring at Ginny. “I bet he bloody winked as well,” she muttered as her friend giggled.

 

“Blaise!” Ginny called. “You're in trouble now.”

 

“Enough babble,” Blaise laughed, “you're not here to see me, as much as that's a bonus for you…”

 

Their first sight of each other in a few days set her heart thumping. He looked good, his hair done, clothes neat, eyes twinkling with mirth.

 

It was her Theo, the man she thought gone for good.

 

She smiled, trying to keep the tension she felt out of the expression; hopefully, she was doing a better job than he was.

 

Ginny glanced between the two of them, taking a sip of her drink. Blaise walked around the sofa and picked her up bodily, draping her over his shoulder. She squealed as he slapped her arse, trying to steady her glass.

 

“Blaise! What are you doing?”

 

“Come, mia tigrotto! We’re leaving these two to talk. It's overdue.”

 

“But I want…”

 

“You are not staying to listen. Drop that thought from your mind, or I'll spank you again!”

 

Ginny grinned at Hermione. “Oh, I definitely want to stay and listen!” She screeched as Blaise slapped her again, biting her lip.

 

“We're leaving. Hermione, pleasure as always. Theo, mio amico… Good luck.” He winked and prepared to Disapparate.

 

“Really want to stay!” Ginny cried, and Blaise shook his head, rolling his eyes. They vanished with a crack and a last echoing squeal as Ginny received another spank.

 

Theo smiled at her, feeling a little awkward. “I… uh…”

 

“You look good,” Hermione said, blushing slightly. “Well, you do. More like yourself again.”

 

He unconsciously fingered the scar on his cheek. “Thanks, I feel… better. You look great too.”

 

She grinned. “This is getting awkward, Theo. We've seen each other naked; we are way past first date nerves. Sit.”

 

He went to sit in the armchair, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him down beside her on the sofa. “About what happened…”

 

She shook her head, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him close. “In a minute,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

 

The kiss was soft and tender, and Hermione's nerves fluttered. “I've missed that,” she murmured against his mouth.

 

“Me too.”

 

“I can't say I'm not… Not  _ disappointed _ ; that's not the word.” She sighed, pulling away and regarding him seriously. “There are secrets, Theo. Things I learned whilst you were gone, and after you came back. I thought I knew you, and it hurts that there are things you've hidden from me.”

 

He nodded, staring at his shoes with interest. “You know that displays of affection are hard for me; so too is sharing the darker things of my past.”

 

“But that's what a relationship is, Theo. We talk about who we are, who we were. We learn what made the person we love who they are. There are two I want to know about, and I think you know which ones I mean.”

 

He sighed and looked up at her earnest expression. “Okay, but I hope this doesn't make you hate me.”

 

“It won't, I promise. I know in my heart that won't happen.”

 

“As I said to Adrian, I have killed someone… a long time ago. I thought that no one knew about it, but it seems that Blaise saw more than I realised that night.”

 

“Tell me,” she said, her emotions held tightly.

 

~~~

 

“Follow me, children!”

 

Slughorn’s voice echoed down towards him as the veritable army of students marched up yet another staircase, towards the seventh floor. Theo glanced down over the bannister at the long line of children, snaking their way up from the Great Hall. Filch was stood below him, scowling at the children and growling at them to hurry up.

 

If he aimed it right, Theo could drop a nasty mouthful of snot right down the back of the odious man’s shirt… He gave a huff and turned to continue climbing the stairs.

 

“What about Draco? We need to find Draco!”

 

Pansy’s shrill voice was grating on his nerves now. While every other Slytherin was keeping their shit together, leaving the castle with some dignity, she was screeching like a damn fishwife. Draco had decided where he wanted to make his stand; to try and capture Potter and hand him over to the Dark Lord. Theo wished him well but didn’t expect to see his friend alive at the end of all this. At least he had taken those two idiot thugs of his with him.

 

Pansy’s caterwauling was likely to draw attention to Malfoy’s absence though, making his job harder. Theo was ambivalent towards Potter as a person, but he also didn’t like the idea of the Dark Lord winning. Ormerod would be delighted, of course, and redouble his efforts to make Theo meet Him, join his army of sycophants. On the other hand, Potter had proved himself capable of looking after himself without Theo having to put himself out. And her voice really was annoying… 

 

“ _ Langlock _ ,” he muttered, flicking his wand upwards to the flight above, where Pansy was hanging over the bannister. He grinned at the look on her face as her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth. She caught sight of him and glared, but he turned away, continuing up the never-ending stairs to where the Room of Requirement lay.

 

Something made him glance over towards an empty classroom. He sighed, gripping his wand tightly, and detached himself from the crowd, drifting across the corridor.

 

“Theo,” a voice hissed, and he looked back to see Blaise looking at him questioningly.

 

He nodded his head, indicating for his friend to go on, turning and stepping into the classroom. He remembered taking one of his classes here, Ancient Runes with that aptly named Bathsheda Babbling. The woman couldn’t speak at a sensible rate if she tried!

 

It wasn’t Babbling who awaited him however.

 

“Hello, Ormerod,” he said tightly.

 

“Is that any way to greet your father, Theodore?” The man removed his mask with a wave of his wand. Theo saw the familiar green eyes, the pencil thin moustache, and the silvered scar that ran from his temple to jaw.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“Son, Theo…” Ormerod stepped closer, arms open, but Theo stepped back, wand slightly raised. “Very well. The Dark Lord has given me this chance to save you, to bring you over to the right side before that damn Order of the Phoenix gets you killed in the crossfire. Come with me, son!”

 

Theo laughed, the tone harsh and sarcastic. “‘Son’? Since when!? You have been content to let me do my own thing for years! You let grandfather raise me after mother’s death, and Tinky care for me after  _ his _ passing. They have been more of a parent to me than you  _ ever _ have! You have  _ never _ been a father to me, Ormerod!”

 

“How dare you, you insolent child! You will stand at my side...”

 

“Why would I stand beside a murderer!?” Theo roared. “You killed my mother! May Merlin rip the magic from your bones, I saw you do it!”

 

Ormerod scoffed. “You weren't even two at the time, how could you possibly remember anything about that time?”

 

“Because I was there! And grandfather helped me preserve that hazy, childish memory in his Pensieve. I viewed it again, and again, and again until I could remember every single detail.” Theo walked forward, his teeth grinding together. “And as I got older I could understand more of what I had seen too. You see, as a child, I didn’t really understand what you meant when you said ‘Not worthy’ to mother. I couldn’t see why you cast a spell that would kill, but how mother continued to live for an hour before her passing. Grandfather never told me everything, and he grew quiet when I asked those questions.”

 

“You’ve let an old fool fill your head with nonsense, boy!”

 

“No, Ormerod. I listened to my grandfather’s stories about mother. I listened to Tinky’s stories too. I heard about how you acted, right up until your precious Dark Lord got himself torn apart by a baby and everything you did afterwards. Your damned pureblood supremacy, your Muggle-hating propaganda. You ignored me, but I saw everything you did while I was a child!”

 

“You should have joined me, son. I could have taught you so much more! There has always been a gap in your knowledge of the Dark Arts.”

 

“For good reason! I saw you use the Killing Curse on mother! But no, it wasn’t on mother, was it?” Theo shot a blast of energy from his wand, destroying a nearby table. “IT WAS MY SISTER!”

 

“Theo… the child was unworthy…”

 

“You shut up!” Theo screamed, blinking the tears from his eyes. “You shut up and listen to me. I was to have a sister! WAS! Do you have any understanding of what that meant to me? All my life I’ve been alone, with no one to entertain me or to entertain; just a house-elf and an old man. I should have had someone my own age to play with, to be a  _ child _ with!

 

“You used the Killing Curse on a  _ baby _ , and because she had not yet been separated from mother, the curse killed her too. Slower, more painfully… I have hated you from that moment, right up until this very day, and I detest you still... with every fibre of my being.”

 

“I only accept the strong into my household! The girl was sickly and weak, like you when you were born.”

 

“So what made me so worthy to survive?”

 

“At least you were a boy! The fertility spell that hag cast was supposed to produce a healthy heir! You were a stringy thing, but you were our first. The girl followed eventually, but was more feeble than you.”

 

“So you just cut her out?” Theo bowed his head, smiling in disbelief as he wiped his sleeve across his face. “Well, I’m cutting  _ you _ out. I’m done. Whatever happens tonight, never contact me again.” He turned to walk away.

 

“Don’t you turn your back to me, child!”

 

Theo looked over his shoulder, seeing the wand levelled at him. “Are you going to kill me now, old man?” He turned, opening his arms wide. “Go ahead! You killed everything else that was dear to me, why not finish the job?”

 

“You are a fool to reject the Dark Lord, Theodore.”

 

“And you and your kind are a relic.” Theo sneered. “Your place is in the dust, with the rest of the outdated and unwanted ideals!”

 

“You're a stubborn idiot, and it will get you killed one day! Get out of my sight, blood traitor!”

 

“Better dead than a part of this,” Theo said, encompassing the castle in his gesture. “Maybe I'll be lucky, and some Phoenix member will end your miserable life. What have you got to live for now, huh? You have nothing. You fight for nothing. You  _ are _ nothing!”

 

His heart pounded, anger boiling in his veins, his throat getting tighter and tighter with the overwhelming emotions flooding him. He should walk away, but something was demanding more of him: justice. His hand tightened around his wand, words of power bubbling just under the surface of his mind.

 

“I would rather be labelled a blood traitor than spend another minute listening to you.”

 

“You will regret this, Theo. You are weak...”

 

“No,” Theo spat, those words surfacing and pushing to be spoken. His mind was clear. “As a child, I was weak! When you murdered my mother and my sister, I was weak. You should thank your dear friends, the Carrows, for the power I now wield; power you never thought I'd have… But you won't be able to.”

 

He pointed his wand between Ormerod's eyes.

 

“This is the last time I will call you this. Goodbye, father.  _ Avada Kedavra _ !”

 

~~~

 

Hermione held Theo close, cradling him as he wept, her own face damp with tears. They sat like that for some time, until Theo got himself under control again and he sat up.

 

“Blaise found me, knelt by the body. I don't know how long I had been there afterwards. I took my father's wand and let Blaise lead me out of the castle.”

 

“And he never told you what he had seen?”

 

“We never spoke about it. I never mentioned it again, just buried the memory deep and refused to look at it. He tried to get me to talk about it on occasion, but we had all suffered during the war, most of us trying to put it behind us. We all instinctively knew things had happened to each other, all waiting for someone else to talk about it.”

 

“I'm glad you told me, Theo. It's not a healthy memory to keep bottled up.”

 

“You don't hate me for killing someone?”

 

“Considering what he did, to you, to your mother… your sister? No. I could never hate you for that. You've said yourself, he was a horrible man, and I'm glad you stood up to him.”

 

“Now for the other one, I guess?”

 

Hermione smiled, wiping her eyes. “I don't think this one will be quite as painful to relive.”

 

Theo blew out his cheeks. “Laila was the first woman I ever said ‘I love you’ to. She was, I guess, my first serious girlfriend.”

 

“Were you happy? Pansy seemed to think you threw her over for me,” Hermione said, her cheeks heating, though whether in embarrassment, annoyance, or some other emotion, she couldn't tell.

 

“Pansy needs to talk to her dear cousin again,” he said bitterly. “No, Laila and I ended several months before you ever became the object of my affections. The woman is incapable of real love… She's a snake, using people. She knows she's pretty, and so wields it like a weapon, twisting people around her finger. She was cheating on me while I was falling in love with her. I didn't know until after I had declared it. I broke up with her after that.”

 

“And the letters? Why didn't you tell me about them if they meant nothing?”

 

“They truly didn't mean anything, Hermione,” he said earnestly. “I promise you! I was unsure how you would take it, and I was scared to tell you about her…”

 

“Because she's so much more beautiful than I am? Because she's rich, a pureblood, and I'm just a mudblood?”

 

Theo stared at her, shocked, his mouth moving soundlessly for a moment. “No! Merlin, Hermione, no, that's not it at all! I didn't tell you because it meant nothing at all.  _ She _ is nothing compared to you! Surely you know me well enough by now that I would never…”

 

He stopped abruptly, noticing her small smile, and the wicked gleam in her eyes. He slumped back on the seat. “You get me, every time…”

 

“You are so easy to wind up, my darling,” she laughed. She became serious again. “I was shocked to hear about Laila, but I do understand your reasoning, misguided though it was. Just promise to tell me about things from now on, okay? And I promise I will tell you everything too. No more secrets, no lies of omission. Deal?”

 

“Deal.”

 

They hugged again, holding each other close, cementing that promise in their hearts. Hermione made tea for them both, and they sat and talked, comparing notes on the case, discussing everything that had happened.

 

As the daylight dimmed, Hermione pulled a wand from her pocket and used it to flick on the lights. Theo remembered her damaged wand then, noticing she was using one he hadn’t seen before.

 

“That reminds me,” he said, indicating the splintered wand on the table. “I'm not sure if we can do anything, but it's worth a try.”

 

She looked at it mournfully. “I suppose this is karma for me breaking yours, isn't it.”

 

“Where did you get the wand you're using now?” he asked. Picking it up and taking a look at it. It was crafted from a hardwood and was dark in colour.

 

“It's Bellatrix’s old wand,” she stated simply. “It feels horrible to use though.”

 

“I thought you had destroyed it,” he said, surprised that she had kept hold of it all these years, despite getting her own one back.

 

“I don't think I could ever willingly destroy a wand. It feels a little blasphemous.”

 

“Okay, so after Christmas, before you were taken, I went and visited Ollivander. I wanted to stop using my father's old wand. It was tainting an already bruised man.” He pulled her back, into his arms, snuggling her to his chest, telling the story of his visit and the old man's solid advice.

 

“So you have the twin to my wand?” she said, wonderingly.

 

“Yes, and I'm wondering if there is enough of a connection between the two wands to repair yours!”

 

“You remember the showdown between Harry and Voldemort?” she said, with a grimace.

 

“Well, yes, but I don't intend to try and kill you with it, my love! So, what do you say, shall we try it? I think the core is intact.” He pulled his wand from his pocket as he spoke, feeling it vibrate as it sat in his palm, next to its twin. 

 

Hermione looked at him sharply. “Did you feel that?” 

 

He looked into her hopeful eyes and felt his heart swell with love for this woman. “I did.” 

 

“How do you know what spell to use? Surely a simple reparo is not enough?” 

 

“You are not the only researcher in this relationship, my darling,” he replied with a smirk.

 

He moved his wand in an intricate movement. “ _ Reparito _ !” 

 

They waited for a moment, hardly daring to breathe, trying to hold off the crushing disappointment they were both feeling.

 

“I'm sorry, Mina,” he sighed, but before he could say anymore Hermione’s wand lifted up of its own accord.

 

It began to repair itself rapidly, each splinter finding its match and fusing together. Sparks flew as it did so, and they watched, entranced. Suddenly Theo’s wand started to pulse. Taken by surprise, he nearly dropped it, before convulsively grasping it harder. It took him only a moment to realise it was pulsing in time with his heartbeat. As he made this realisation, the last piece fused together, and her wand also started to glow, flying to her outstretched hand.

 

They looked at each other, wide grins on their faces, the swirling magic gradually calming and fading away.

 

“Try it,” Theo urged.

 

“ _ Accio cardigan _ ,” she said with a wave of her wand, her stomach knotted. The pale, cream cardigan flew across the room into her hand.

 

With a delighted cry, Hermione launched herself into his arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

 

Theo laughed, holding her tightly. “You’re welcome, Mina, though we should probably thank Ollivander.”

 

They spent the next few hours, curled up on the sofa, cuddled together. Chaste kisses and apologies had followed difficult conversations about the last year, but they were at least talking to each other.

 

“Theo?” she said softly after a comfortable quiet had fallen upon them.

 

“Yes, Mina?”

 

“I think... I think we should try some counselling. There is so much to unpack here, and I don’t want us to fall into the trap of thinking everything will be fine like we did when you came home from the hospital.” She paused, waiting for his response with bated breath.

 

He stared at the ceiling for a while, his thoughts racing, but he knew that she needed him to do this, that  _ he _ needed him to do this. “I agree. You tell me when and where, and I’ll go.”

“I meant for both of us, love, not just you,” she said turning to face him. “This is something we both need to do, for ourselves... and for each other.”

He didn’t speak, and simply pulled her close and kissed her; it conveyed his answer perfectly.

  
  


~~~

 

**End of Part 4**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 5 will begin posting soon...
> 
> Apologies, a continuity error was recently discovered and we're trying to sort it out before we post. Bear with us! :)


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for your patience in waiting for this, and as a reward, here are all the chapters you should have had... Basically, here is the entirety of Part 5! All of it, right up to the end of the tale! Enjoy!!

Since the incident, as they now referred to it, Hermione had been visiting the hospital for check-ups to monitor any after effects of the potion Pucey had been feeding her for the two weeks of her captivity. She vaguely remembered it was something he fed her daily, but maybe the potency of it had differed, as sometimes she had recalled more things than others.

 

Today was her third and final checkup.

 

She held Theo’s hand tightly, right up until the moment she was forced to leave him outside in the corridor whilst the tests were carried out.

 

She sat on the exam table and tried to maintain her breathing. Her hands felt clammy. This wasn't a new feeling. Since the moment she and Theo had reunited, and he had repaired her wand, she had struggled to leave his side. He had felt the same he told her. They said to themselves that this was normal, that they were reworking what their relationship looked like. 

 

She hadn't told anyone, not even Theo, the extreme emotions being apart caused her. She was worried he might commit her! When he wasn't around her, she felt like she was being starved of oxygen, that her world was closing in. She had wondered if it was a panic attack the first time it had happened, waiting for the moment the darkness swept over her as she starved herself of air. It hadn't happened, however, and as soon as she saw his face again, a calmness had swept across her, her world tilting back to normal.

 

“Are you okay, Miss Granger?” the medi-witch asked. “Your vitals are spiking.”

 

“Sorry,” she replied tightly. “Just a bit anxious. Could Theo join me again?” She fiddled with the rings she wore on her left hand, the action had become a nervous twitch of hers. Anything to distract her from Theo's missing presence, and the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her.

 

“Sure, give me a moment.”

 

The woman left her alone, and a few seconds later Theo's head popped around the door, a look of relief on his face as he came and stood by her. Their hands found each other's and they both gave a sigh of relief, noticed only by the medi-witch. 

 

“I'm pleased to say, Miss Granger, that there seems to be no long-term damage. You might still have a few moments every now and again where you struggle to remember things, but I would expect that to pass over the next few months. I'm happy to sign you off, and maybe a checkup in six months time unless you experience anything of concern?”

 

“That's fantastic news,” Theo enthused as Hermione nodded quietly.

 

“Miss Granger?” the medi-witch prompted. “Are you okay? Are there any questions you have?”

 

“You're sure there are no long-term health issues that might arise?” she asked quietly.

 

“No, we have no concerns. There have never been any cases of this type of potion causing any physical damage, and everything looks fine. Our main concern has always been to memory, but you have sailed through all our tests, and like I said, other than a small blip here and there, I see no long-term issues. All the same, would you feel more comfortable with a more in-depth physical check-up?”

 

Hermione nodded, squeezing Theo's hand slightly. “We're not planning on trying for children, not yet… but I would like to be sure…”

 

“Say no more,” the mediwitch said, “we'll do a physical now, and if that highlights any concerns, we'll refer you onwards.”

 

~~~

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Hermione looked down between her raised knees at the bespectacled face looking up at her. “I'm okay,” she said, not really meaning it.

 

“Okay, well this will be a little strange…”

 

“I remember.”

 

“Oh yes, of course, you've experienced this sort of thing before. Well, this will be a little different. We're not measuring a baby this time, we're going… well, deeper, shall we say?”

 

The woman gave a light titter at her own joke, and Hermione smiled tightly, feeling nervous.

 

“Right then, breathe normally, please. This will feel a little strange at first… Yes, I already said that...” The woman gave another giggle.

 

The Healer, Alyssia, was possibly one of the strangest Hermione had ever seen in all her time visiting St Mungo's. She was friendly enough but had a habit of giggling and making jokes at the most inappropriate times. Hermione missed her midwife, but she wasn't pregnant so had no cause to see her. This Healer, however, was supposed to be the foremost expert in gynaecological matters, and Theo had insisted on the best to be sure.

 

After her physical had shown an unusual reading, they had wanted to look further. It was unspoken between the pair, but being able to have children someday was important to them.

 

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to where he was sat, looking uncomfortable. She gave him a small smile, and he leant forward to grasp her hand.

 

“Okay, here we go!” Alyssia declared happily, and Hermione felt an uncomfortable sensation between her legs that rapidly spread like a warm wave through her abdomen.

 

She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, counting the tiles, and trying to ignore the strange woman exploring the most intimate parts of her body.

 

“Oh,” the witch declared abruptly.

 

“'Oh’?” Theo said, leaning further forward, gripping Hermione's hand harder.

 

“Yes,” she nodded, a half smile and a frown on her face. “Oh.”

 

“Is that a good ‘oh’?” Hermione said, worried.

 

“Hmm,” Alyssia replied.

 

“Seriously?” Theo growled. “Can we have a straight answer, please!”

 

“Certainly!” she said brightly.

 

Hermione felt the warmth recede rapidly, and Alyssia helped to lift her legs out of the stirrups, turning away to let her make herself decent once more. Theo helped her to sit up, then perched beside her on the bed, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. She placed her hand on his thigh, squeezing slightly.

 

“Oh, because I was surprised,” Alyssia said briskly, all trace of her airy manner gone. “Hmm, because it is an unusual situation. I'm sorry to say that I very much fear having a child will be very difficult for you both.”

 

Theo swore under his breath, feeling his heart thud painfully. Hermione lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, tears already springing to her eyes.

 

“Why?” she whispered.

 

“There are a couple of things, Miss Granger, but the main thing is… Do you know much about human biology? Ah, good,” she said when they both nodded, “makes it so much easier, I find!

 

“The tubes that carry the egg to the womb, the fallopian tubes? They have become twisted, quite terribly so, I fear. Normally this causes severe pain, abdominal tenderness, nausea… have you noticed any of this?”

 

“No, nothing like that.”

 

“Yes, this is why it is unusual. The pain is there as a warning, to tell you there's something wrong so you can have it treated. You, however… Without that pain, you weren't aware of a problem, and it has caused some irreparable damage to the ovaries and fallopian tubes.”

 

“Can it be reversed?” Theo said, holding Hermione to him, his heart breaking as he heard her sobs.

 

“We can try, certainly. I will arrange urgent surgery today and the Healers, including myself, will do what we can to restore blood flow to the reproductive system, and untangle everything. I must warn you though… It is unlikely to help, and I am afraid that natural conception may be extremely unlikely. I have only seen this effect once in my lifetime and read about one other. Tell me, dear, were you struck by a dark curse?”

 

“I don't think so… wait, no, I was! Theo, Adrian used something on me when you were fighting him! I remember thinking it was a Knockback jinx, because of the light and the wand motion… but he cast something different…”

 

“Adrian?” Alyssia said. “Adrian Pucey?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“It would make sense, as it was in connection with a Pucey that I first encountered this curse. It appears to be something of a family created curse, but no one knows the name of it, or how it is cast nor the incantation. Neither of the two girls I know of survived the curse.”

 

Hermione stared at her, terror suddenly flooding through her.

 

“Oh, don't worry, dear,” Alyssia said brightly, “we caught this in time. Those girls had walked around for several months before they died. The twisting caused the ovaries to die, then infection set in, horrible blood poisoning… All hidden by the curse until it was irreversible. Quite terrible! We'll sort you out though. I’ll just go and tell the Healer now, and we'll get you all untangled in no time! I’ll be back in a minute, and we’ll go through any questions you may have.”

 

She gave that little titter again, standing and moving towards the door, pointing at Theo. “I just realised something amusing! We’ll be using your Arithmetic equations during the surgery to save as much as possible. Ahh, I’ll bet you didn’t expect your own discovery to be used to help someone you know?” She left the room, still chuckling to herself.

 

~~~

 

Shortly after Hermione had been taken down to surgery, Theo had been asked to leave the hospital. Whilst the Healers understood his frustration and anger, they did not appreciate him throwing chairs around the crowded waiting room.

 

He stalked up and down the high street outside the entrance, the ugly mannequin in the shop window watching his every move in case he tried to come back in. Muggles parted around him, none of them wanting to get too close to the strange, furious-looking man muttering to himself.

 

“FUCK!!”

 

Several Muggles dared the busy traffic and crossed the street to avoid him, his scream startling many of them. A couple watched him punch the glass window in concern, before they moved away, leaving him to his pain.

 

After a while Theo began to calm down, his anger slowly cooling into a simmering rage. They weren't planning on having children yet, after all. Still, just one more thing to lay at Pucey's feet. 

 

And as for that damn Alyssia’s bedside manner… She may be the best, but Merlin she was terrible at dealing with bad news!

 

He looked up at the mannequin. “Theodore Nott, here to see the Head of Spell Damage,” he muttered.

 

The mannequin tilted its head to one side and stared blankly at him.

 

“I'm calm!” he barked. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Apologies, I'll be calm. I promise.”

 

After a moment the mannequin beckoned, and Theo stepped forward, through the glass and back into the busy waiting room of St Mungo's.

 

~~~

 

“I want you to close your eyes and just lean back; relax and breathe deeply.” The man's voice was calm, soothing. “That's good. Just breathe in… and out. Focus on the feeling of the breath entering your body, filling your lungs; the sensation of it in your chest. Then out, feel it flow from you, taking all your tension with it.”

 

For a few minutes, the wood panelled room was quiet; just the soft tick of the carriage clock above the mantelpiece, and the deep breathing were only the sounds. The man in the leather chair opposite quietly wrote something on his notepad, his eyes studying the man reclined in front of him.

 

“Now we're going to start relaxing your body. Start at your toes; feel them within your socks, feel the material against your skin. Let any tension out of your feet with each breath out.”

 

The man continued to guide the patient, bringing his focus to each part of his body, and releasing any tension. Gradually he sensed complete relaxation and noted the time and some additional observations.

 

“I would like you to imagine yourself in your safe space… the one you focused on in our last few sessions, if that still makes you feel safe… Once you are there and feeling secure, we can move on. Continue to breathe normally now, just gently in and out.”

 

The soft tick of the clock was the only sound now as the man’s breathing eased and he relaxed further, a small smile touching the corner of his mouth.

 

“Okay, we’re going to begin now, if you’re ready?” He paused until he saw the nod of assent. “Right then, I want you to think about the event. Just in general terms, and nothing specific. Try not to think about details, just the event in general. If you feel yourself getting anxious, I want you to move away from the memory and come back to your safe place.”

 

They sat that way for a minute, one just breathing easily, the other making occasional notes. The  _ tick-tick-tick _ of the clock marked the time.

 

“Can you tell me how you feel right now?”

 

“I’m fine,” came the almost lazy reply, “the event as a whole doesn’t have an effect on me.”

 

“That’s good, that’s an improvement. So now we’re going to use the technique I told you about. Last time we worked on identifying the things that provoked your anxiety. I want you to bring those feelings to the surface of your mind… imagine how you feel at those times. Each time your anxiety begins to spike, we will guide you back to your safe space, and we’ll relax you again. Okay?”

 

Time ticked by without either man seeming to be aware of its passage. Each time the tension levels rose, or the breathing became shallow, the soothing voice led the way back to safety. After some time they were sat in silence, one scribbling notes on his pad, the other in relaxed repose.

 

“I want you to picture yourself in that room in your house where you feel safe.” He waited quietly until the other man had nodded. “In that room, there is a comfortable chair or a sofa. In front of it is a television. See yourself sitting in that chair, watching the television… Now I want you to float out of your body, standing to one side. See yourself sat there as if you were away from your body. You are an observer, nothing more.”

 

“I still say this sounds ridiculous, you know that?” the man murmured.

 

“It may seem an unusual thing, Theo, but go with me here. Please?”

 

Theo settling himself back into the sofa cushions with a small sigh. After a while, Theo had relaxed to a satisfactory level again.

 

“You are watching yourself watch the television,” the man continued. “You cannot see the images on the screen; you can only watch yourself. On the television a movie is playing; it is showing your kidnap, from start to finish. The film will show everything that happened to you.”

 

Theo felt himself tense a little, in his mind almost unable to resist the pull of looking at the screen himself.

 

“I want you to imagine that you are watching yourself watch a video of your trauma; the screen is showing everything from the very start, through to the end. Every moment you remember, every event is playing on the screen, and you are watching yourself watch it all. You do not see the trauma at all, it is on the screen which is not visible...”

 

Theo  _ could _ see it in his mind, however, felt himself being drawn back there. His chest began to feel tight, his breathing speeding up. Over the sound of the clock, there was the scrape of steel on stone, coming closer… his head was swaddled in hot, fetid darkness.

 

“Draw back, Theo,” the man said soothingly. “You aren't there anymore; this is a past event that cannot hurt you. You aren't even watching it directly. You are watching yourself watch it on a screen, a video. It is in the past.”

 

Theo barely heard him, the blood pounding in his ears.

 

“Theo? Come back, Theo. Come away from the scene completely. Step back… the television is gone… the room is safe once more, and there is nothing to fear. Focus on the ticking of the clock, let it draw you back to your safe space.”

 

Theo started to sit up, his eyes still closed, but then relaxed again; his breathing was still rapid, but gradually it began to slow.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Theo nodded slowly. “I am now. I couldn’t stop myself from getting sucked back into it. It felt like there was a weird desire to see it all again… it was almost irresistible.”

 

“I understand. We’re going to go back into the room again in a moment, and we’ll try again.”

 

“I’m not sure this technique will work for me, Justin,” Theo said, a small frown creasing his brow. “I think my curiosity will keep getting the better of me.”

 

Justin smiled, unseen by his client. “If you can keep that curiosity under control, I will personally guarantee that you will see an improvement by the end of this session.”

 

“Bold claims, Mister Finch-Fletchley…”

 

“But not entirely unfounded. You'll see.”

 

Theo nodded after a moment and let Justin guide him back into the room, seeing the television, but managing to ignore it this time. He watched himself watch the video in its entirety, feeling blessedly detached from the whole thing; ‘double disassociation Justin had called it.

 

Justin instructed him to merge back into his body so that he could see the screen. Theo felt a frisson of fear as he did so, but almost immediately Justin was instructing him to use the remote control; to rewind the video and witness his kidnap, his torture, his fear… all of it in reverse... unwinding, healing. There were times when he felt his body reacting, his heart rate lifting or sweat prickling his back, but the triggering event on the screen was gone before he could focus fully. Soon he was back at the start, the image on the screen his hand poised to open his front door.

 

“We're going to go forward now, but in the same way we just went backwards. Imagine that you are watching the event, this time in fast forward…”

 

It was a surreal experience. As had happened when viewing it backwards there were moments when he felt fear or creeping dread, the intense loneliness that came with those interminable hours of wakefulness, just waiting for Adrian to come back and hurt him. Each time he felt this, the event was whipped away, made simply a part of history in a mere moment. All too soon the image stopped as Hermione came into sight over a Healer’s shoulder, the corridor at St Mungo’s visible above her.

 

Back again they went, Theo watching the whole thing in reverse once more; it was slightly different each time, with his mind recalling events in a different order, assigning greater significance to others than he had before. Forwards again, then back, then forwards again. Each time he fast forwarded to the end Justin checked on him, and they discussed how he viewed this past event, how his feelings towards this part of his history had changed. They talked about the future now that it was all over. Slower now they went back, then forward, Theo able to see more, feel more, remember the sensations, the smells… and then a wondrous thing happened.

 

Theo noticed how little reaction the scenes were evoking. He could view them dispassionately for the most part, with only the most extreme moments causing him discomfort. Nothing more than discomfort though; no extreme fear, no cold sweats, no elevated heart rate.

 

He felt completely disassociated from the events on the screen; viewed them as having happened in a past life almost.

 

“Merlin’s beard…” he breathed then.

 

“You okay, Theo?” Justin said, concerned at the change.

 

“I’m… fine,” he said in wonder.

 

“So can you carefully bring an event to mind, one that would have potentially caused you to have a panic attack before now?”

 

Theo opened his eyes and grinned at Justin. “Yeah. I can.”

 

~~~

 

It was like a wave, or a soothing balm washing over him as he opened the door to leave Justin’s office and saw Hermione sat in the waiting room outside. As she smilingly climbed to her feet, he rushed to her side and embraced her.

 

They clung to each other, just feeling each other’s heartbeat. It felt like they had been apart for an eternity, even though Theo had only been in Justin’s office for two hours. She had been sat in with him for the first half an hour, but Justin had decided that she had been distracting Theo, and had asked her to wait outside. He had been nice about it, but Theo had missed her terribly.

 

“How did it go?” she said, kissing him on the mouth.

 

“Very good,” Theo enthused. “Surprisingly well actually! You know I was unsure about Justin's reversal technique? Well, it worked amazingly. I can think about the things that would normally set me off without a reaction now.”

 

“That's wonderful news, my darling!”

 

“Justin cautioned me that I should think of it more as a positive step forward. ‘It’s a marathon, not a sprint’, was what he actually said, but I feel really good, Mina.”

 

“Well, that's a great attitude to have. Are you ready for our appointment with Doctor Phillips?”

 

Theo nodded, feeling a moment of sadness; the counselling was helpful, and her soothing manner had already done wonders for them both in the few sessions they had. It was still hard for either of them to talk about their loss, and even harder to speak about their current situation, but this was what the counselling was for. She was also helping them to reconnect fully and to appreciate each other again.

 

Wrapping an arm around each other, the pair made their way down the corridor, to Doctor Phillips’ office.

 

~~~

 

Hermione sat in Theo’s spacious kitchen, staring at him as he sat scribbling away across from her. After her operation Theo had told her about his meeting with the Head of Spell Damage, the research he was doing to solve their problem.

 

Hermione tried to be optimistic, as he was, but there wasn’t an awful lot left for him to work with. It had been hard to maintain that positivity over the last couple of weeks. Organ death was not a pretty thing to have to imagine, and the Healers had only managed to save one ovary. That remaining little organ was severely damaged, but viable. Just about.

 

“What are you staring at, pretty one?” Theo asked without looking up from his notes.

 

“You,” she laughed, surprised he had even noticed when she was sure he hadn't looked up in at least twenty minutes. 

 

“And why, pray tell, are you staring at me?” he said, his face turning to look at her, a mischievous glint in his eye.

 

“I missed you,” she said softly. “You’re always so busy now… I know it’s for us, but… I just want to be with you.”

 

“Mina, I'm right here,” he said, his hand reaching across the table to take hers.

 

“I know, but I missed this... us,” she said, pointedly squeezing his hand. “I never want to let you out of my sight again,” she whispered.

 

He stood then, his hand never leaving hers as he walked around the table and dragged a chair beside hers before sitting. “I don't want to either, and we don't have to okay? Well, apart from maybe to shower,” he smirked.

 

She mock slapped him. “I was being serious!”

 

“So am I,” he promised. He took her face in his hands then and softly planted a kiss on her lips. “You're stuck with me, Miss Granger.”

 

Their foreheads touched, looking into each other’s eyes. There was a heat in Hermione’s that caused a flutter of fear in Theo’s chest, and he pulled away slightly.

 

“Seriously though,” he whispered, “are you okay? Today was a tough session with old Phillips.”

 

“I… yes, it wasn't easy. I feel guilty. It was as if as soon as you came back, I forgot that he…  _ she _ … even existed.” She felt him stiffen at her use of words to describe their child. “Sorry, I can't say ‘it’. Our child existed, and that word feels so impersonal.”

 

Tears were threatening to fall from his eyes, but he managed to hold them at bay. His voice was slightly gruff when he spoke, his hands finding both of hers and gripping tightly.

 

“You have nothing to feel sorry for... to feel guilty about. Remember what Phillips said: medically it was amazing you carried our child for as long as you did, given the stress of everything. I know Phillips isn't a fan of this, but if we have anyone to be angry at, it's him. He ruined this, us, everything. He even managed to take away our future…”

 

“Theo.” Her voice sounded nervous even to her own ears.

 

He stilled and apologised before pulling her into his arms where they sat quietly for a few moments, both of them lost to their own thoughts.

 

Doctor Phillips, in their first session, had highlighted that, whilst they needed to work through this together, they both had individual needs too and were both dealing with this loss differently.

 

Hermione, she had pointed out, had the guilt only a mother could bear. She felt a failure, not only towards their child but towards Theo too. She had failed to find him, and in doing so, she had failed to keep safe her one last link to him. In addition, the new blow that they would not be able to have any children had caused even more guilt. Hermione had to come to terms with that guilt and get past it before she would be able to see a way forward.

 

Theo, on the other hand, was angry. He had an uncontrollable rage that filled him every time he thought of their child, and how Hermione had come to miscarry. Theo was angry at Adrian and found it easy to place blame for all of it at his door. Which was fine and justified, but as Doctor Phillips pointed out there was no way for that anger to subside in its current guise, and it did nothing to help Hermione. As such Theo had to learn to let his anger go, otherwise it would, over time, consume him and potentially ruin his life all over again.

 

They both exited that session thinking that all that was easier said than done, but over the last month or so their weekly sessions had begun to help. It made them talk to each other about it if nothing else.

 

“It's going to be a long road,” she murmured quietly into his neck.

 

“Well, luckily, it's one we get to walk together,” he replied.

 

~~~

 

“We might need to start opening the post, Mina.” 

 

“What’s that?” she called from the kitchen as she prepared dinner.

 

“Blasted bird keeps nipping me!”

 

“Don't call Quincy that!”

 

“It's a term of endearment, my love,” he told her, stepping into the kitchen. He grinned as Quincy screeched angrily behind him, tapping the stack of letters insistently with his beak.

 

“No, it's not,” she replied mock crossly. “I just don't fancy with dealing with any other people right now. All I need is you,” she sing-songed.

 

“Is that so?” he smirked, his hands sliding around her waist and holding her to him.

 

“I could stay like this forever,” she murmured, feeling him squeeze her tighter in response.

 

“We haven't received any howlers yet, so I think we are good. I don't fancy leaving you either!”

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No waiting! Go straight to the next chapter and read on! ;)


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 2

He had spoken too soon.

 

A few days later they were both being subjected to an intervention. According to their friends, currently holding them hostage in Theo’s living room and refusing to let them avoid the conversation, they had become reclusive, living in each other’s pockets.

 

“Guys, this is crazy,” Hermione laughed. “We've done things since… Well, since…” She stalled, still reluctant to discuss the incident outside the two of them, or their counselling sessions. 

 

“No, it's not, Hermione,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “I've tried seven times in the last three weeks to get you to come and see Luca and me. Just us, having a coffee or some lunch. The first and only time you agreed to come out was last Sunday, and it was for a roast at mum’s, when Theo could come too. And then you cancelled at the last minute!”

 

“Well, we've just been busy!” Hermione huffed, that creeping anxiety spiking through her veins once more; just thinking of being apart from Theo made her feel scared. No one else knew more than the barest details about their current difficulty, nor how seeing Luca and all the other young children, without Theo at her side, would have been impossible to manage.

 

“Theo!” Blaise picked up the attack. “We haven't had Sunday brunch since before everything! I know I've owled you weekly. I can see two of my letters on the mantle, behind you! Draco probably has as well.”

 

“Guys, we are just taking some time,” Theo replied calmly, his hand moving to cover Hermione’s to still its shaking, and to hide his own discomfort; Draco  _ hadn't _ been in touch, at all, and being unable… unwilling to leave Hermione's side had made it impossible to check in on him.

 

“Time?! Away from us?” cried Ginny. “We don’t want to sound selfish, but we want to see you guys! See you happy again! You both went through so much, and we want to help you get your normal lives back.”

 

“Mione,” Ron said, interrupting his fiery sister's words, “when did you last visit your own apartment? I know you still have it. You haven’t moved out yet, so you’re still paying for it.” 

 

“I…” She went quiet. She knew he knew the answer.

 

“And your parents?” he prodded.

 

“I speak to them all the time!” she retaliated.

 

“That's not the same, and you know it.” He went quiet his point apparently proven.

 

Look, miei amici,” Blaise said, “we’re all for you two reconnecting, but you need to be careful you're not overcompensating! There’s a fine line between being close, and becoming codependent.”

 

Theo and Hermione glanced at each other, both seeing the same uncertainty in the other’s eyes.

 

“Just think about it?” Ginny pleaded.

 

The friends moved the conversation on, and for the remainder of the evening they had a good time, but later that night in bed, whilst wrapped in each other's arms, Theo brought the conversation back up.

 

“Do you think they have a point?” he murmured into her hair.

 

Silence followed for a moment or two before she answered.

 

“Probably.” She pulled away and turned to face him. “But I don't like what it means. It makes me panic… When I'm not with you, it almost feels like I can't breathe…” 

 

He cupped her cheek, urgency in his eyes. “Why haven't you told me that! Have you told Phillips about this?”

 

She shook her head, tears beginning to fall. “I feel stupid, you’re having panic attacks for very real reasons, and I'm just scared to not have you with me.”

 

“Hermione Granger, don't ever call anything you do stupid! Given all we've been through I think panic attacks over anything in our lives is very reasonable. I'll owl Phillips first thing. We have become hermits, I think we can both see that. We need help with this. I’ve felt scared to be anywhere else, but I've been working through it with Justin. You've been bottling your own fear up.” He kissed her face repeatedly with butterfly kisses. “We'll take it slow. Baby steps, yes?”

 

She nodded before capturing his lips with hers. The panic was still there at the thought of being without him.

 

~~~

 

She stood in front of the mirror, hardly recognising herself. These clothes hadn't been worn in nearly a year; it felt longer if she was honest. She had lost weight, and it showed more so in her work clothes. She might need to go shopping if she survived today.

 

The sessions she’d had over her anxiety had been so helpful. She and Theo had managed to have small amounts of time apart. It had all been controlled up until now; she would visit Ginny, while Blaise would come to see Theo and help him with his research.

 

Their first attempt had lasted half an hour before Hermione had been forced to Floo home, almost throwing herself into Theo's arms. Slowly they had increased that time, visiting the Grangers or the Weasleys by themselves, or meeting a friend out somewhere. One time Hermione stayed home alone for two hours, with only Quincy for company, while Theo went to talk with Harry at the Ministry. When he returned, with copious notes in his book, Hermione had calmly made him a cup of tea without any drama. It was a huge step forward for them both.

 

Today was going to be the longest they would be apart. They would finally be going back to work. 

 

Hermione's job had changed. The Head of Spell Damage research at the Ministry had been forced to fill Hermione's role because of the amount of time she had been absent, though Theo had an open door opportunity to return thanks to his almost celebrity status in the department. Theo was only going back so he would have access to the department's vaults of research.

 

Hermione was offered a role in the Auror department. It had been offered by Harry on Draco’s recommendation that she would make an excellent researcher for the team.

 

She and Theo had both talked about it. It was a blessing in disguise, as they couldn't argue that their obsession with each other would never work in a work environment!

 

It would allow them some space and hopefully some purpose back in their lives.

 

While she stood, pondering all the changes today would bring, Theo walked into the room in his work robes. They also looked a little too large.

 

“I think we need to go on a carb-rich diet,” he laughed. 

 

She smiled. “You might have a point. Shopping might be more fun though!”

 

“I'll leave you to have a girl's shopping day,” he replied earnestly.

 

She nodded sighing. 

 

“We're getting there, Mina.”

 

“I know. I'm just at an anxiety high right now.” She blushed.

 

“Come on, let me drop you to your office. We will meet for lunch, yes?”

 

“Sounds good,” she replied, moving to take his outstretched hand.

 

They travelled to the Ministry and walked the corridors side by side, hands clasped together tightly, ignoring the stares from other people.

 

They knew why many stared. The Daily Prophet had printed a retraction last month, published alongside a personal apology by Pomblethwaite Shiftly. The pieces were extremely cringe worthy, as the paper begged the couple’s forgiveness for all the horrible things it had printed over the last year. When Adrian had been taken down it was revealed that Mister Shiftly had been under his control, a victim of the Imperius Curse, and made to write scandalous and libellous things in order to turn the public against Theo. He and Hermione had not yet responded, and we're still debating whether to sue, especially in light of this information.

 

Theo kissed Hermione briefly, a few steps from the entrance to the Auror office. “Good luck, my love,” he whispered in her ear as they broke apart.

 

She laughed some of her tension leaving her. “I'm like a child being dropped off for her first day at school!” 

 

“Well, in that case, daddy says behave yourself, and don't get into any trouble.”

 

“Eww…” she groaned, laughing. “Get away with you.”

 

“Just think of all the books and research that awaits you today! My Mina will be in her element!”

 

“She will,” she smirked. “I love you, see you at lunch. Twelve o'clock?”

 

“One o'clock,” he countered.

 

“Twelve thirty,” she begged.

 

He nodded with a smile. “I love you too, Hermione Granger, with every fibre of my being!”

 

He watched as she walked through the doors and at that moment he knew all would be fine; his little bookworm would find her way again and so would he.

 

~~~

 

“We haven't had sex in… well, it was before... It was the last thing we did before it happened. So that's eight months? Give or take. I don't know what the female equivalent of blue balls is, but Hermione must be in agony if there is such a thing!”

 

There was no answer from the other side of the kitchen island, just a wide-eyed stare that made Theo grimace.

 

“Merlin knows why I'm telling  _ you _ this. Our relationship has never been one to be this open about something like  _ this _ . Don't think I've ever talked to you about any of my girlfriends before.”

 

Theo slumped on the bar stool, his hands resting on the wooden work surface in front of him, fingers intertwined nervously.

 

“Doctor Phillips said it's important that we try… that we ‘make the time’. That it's not about procreation, but connection, and we can't let our difficulty stop us from enjoying ourselves. Merlin knows it is enjoyable…” Theo's companion made a funny noise. “It is, don't look at me like that. It may not be your thing, but I'm sure you've had that sort of fun at some point.”

 

“The point is…” He paused, rubbing his forehead. “Merlin, Theo, what  _ is _ your point?” he muttered to himself. “It's been so long now that… I mean, she's seen my scars, almost all of them now… but not the ones on my legs. They’re some of the worst. Most have healed well enough, but I still feel like… Ugh, I still feel hideous, despite everything! What if she sees them all and runs screaming from the room?”

 

There was a gentle touch on Theo's hand, comforting.

 

“I know,” Theo said quietly. “She's not that sort of woman, and she loves me with all my faults. I'm sure we'll get through this too. Just have to go for it, see what happens, right?

 

Theo's companion hooted encouragingly and nuzzled Theo's cheek.

 

“Thanks, Quincy. You always were a good listener.”

 

The owl gave a happy squawk and fluttered his wings excitedly. He looked pointedly at the biscuit jar, then back at Theo. Rolling his eyes, Theo fished a biscuit out.

 

“Well, I'm glad you waited until I'd finished talking before you started begging,” he muttered, as Quincy eagerly took the biscuit. Leaning over Theo gave the bird a kiss on top of his head. “You're a menace, you are.”

 

Shaking his head, he headed upstairs to tidy up and change out of his work robes. It still felt strange to be wearing them; going to work each day, seeing old colleagues, dealing with the looks and the uncomfortable conversations. Those, at least, he had been able to get out of the way fairly quickly, and after a couple of weeks, things settled back into some semblance of near normality.

 

He was still surprised at how effective Justin's treatment had been too. Four weeks and counting, without an outburst or wobble. Justin had left the spell damage team after Theo's rise to fame and had since dealt with his own issues of jealousy, seemingly finding solace in helping others in a different way. Theo was pleased for him and grateful for the help he had given him. He had to get Justin and Ernie a present, the pair having announced their engagement recently.

 

The front door opened and closed, and he heard Hermione's familiar footsteps. There was a thump as she slipped her boots off.

 

“Theo?” she called.

 

He heard Quincy answer from the kitchen, and Hermione's laugh as she no doubt saw what he was tucking into.

 

“I'm up here, Mina.”

 

As she climbed the stairs, Theo abruptly realised he was still stood in little more than his underwear. He had gotten distracted with his musings, and completely forgotten to finish getting dressed!

 

He had just about managed to get his trousers on and nearly done up when he heard her voice.

 

“Well, well, look at the vulnerable position the lioness has found the snake in.”

 

He froze, acutely aware of every scar visible on his body, half expecting her tone to change when he straightened.

 

There was nothing, but a familiar smirk on her lips and a slightly lascivious gleam in her eyes. The room was dim with the curtains closed, only the light in the hallway illuminating them.

 

“Don't,” Theo said, as Hermione reached over to turn the light on. He gave a quiet sigh of relief as she nodded and lowered her hand again.

 

“So, is there anything pressing that I'm interrupting?”

 

“Nothing that springs to mind,” he said quietly.

 

“That's good.” Sensing his desire to be unseen, she pushed the door to, blocking out much of the light from the hallway. “Maybe you won't mind if the lioness approaches?” she said quietly, already prowling forward.

 

It was a different sort of fear; it wasn't panic, it wasn't the raw terror he had experienced for much of the last year, but it was fear all the same. They hadn't had any form of intimacy, despite their previous dependency. Nothing beyond hugs and the occasional heated kiss; Theo had almost always been the one to pull away first.

 

Now though he steadied himself, controlling his breathing as her hands traced lightly over his bare chest. She held his eyes with hers, her fingers tickling gently, an encouraging smile on her lips. Slowly he lifted his arms to encircle her waist and pulled her body against his. Her pleased sigh caused a tightening in his groin, and her lips met his tenderly at first, gradually becoming more insistent.

 

As they kissed, Theo could feel  _ something _ happening; for the first time in what felt like an eternity there was a response, and he felt the material of his trousers pressing against his length. He couldn’t help his relieved laugh, and Hermione pulled back quizzically.

 

“I think it’s alive,” he whispered.

 

Her eyes flashed with lust, hands already reaching for the fastening on his trousers. Almost reverently she pushed his trousers down his legs and laid a hand on the bulge in his briefs. “Well, hello there,” she said with a grin.

 

Theo gave a nervous smile that turned into a hiss of pleasure as Hermione stroked gently up and down over the fabric. With slow and sure movements she pulled the briefs down, feeling his cock droop forward rather than standing proud. He tried to pull away, could feel the heat flush over his face.

 

“It's okay,” she whispered, kissing him softly and holding his hips to stop him retreating. “Just a bit of stage fright.”

 

Theo wanted to turn away, remembering what had happened before Christmas. It wasn't quite as bad this time, there was something there at least… “What are…?”

 

Hermione had turned him slightly and lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand cupping his balls. “You're going to let me help you this time. Doctor's orders.”

 

“I'm not sure Doctor Phillips specifically mentioned this,” he said tightly, trying to keep himself from pulling away.

 

“She said we had to work together to get through any difficulties we encounter. It's been a long time, so nerves are to be expected. Just close your eyes, let me… breathe some life into him.” She winked and took hold of his length.

 

Theo let his head loll back, ignoring his fears about how close she was to his scars; she probably couldn't see them in the low light anyway. A hot feeling enveloped his cock, and the faint vibrations from Hermione’s hum ran through him. It stimulated long forgotten feelings and sensations, evoking a gasp. The warm, wet sensation stroked up and down, her tongue swirling around the head. He felt himself hardening rapidly as the flat of Hermione’s tongue stroked up the underside, flicking across the most sensitive part of him. His throat seemed to close up as the heat pooled within him and his fingers tangled in her hair, his hips bucking involuntarily.

 

Hermione smiled up at him, misreading his movements as encouragement, and she stroked her hand up and down, rubbing the head of his cock over her wet lips. She was as surprised as he was when the hot fluid jetted from the end, the initial burst going up her nose and in her eye. Reeling back in shock she felt the burning pain begin and squeezed her eyes shut, another spatter hitting her cheek and across her lips, a third flying across the top of her work robes.

 

Recovering her composure, she blindly drew close, her hand still wrapped around his shaft. Ignoring the burning pain in her eye she sucked and lapped at the head, drawing out the last of his cum and swallowing it down.

 

“Oh shit… fucking hell…” Theo panted for breath, his knees trembling as he moved back. He saw what had happened. “Merlin… Mina, I’m so sorry! I never meant… I was surprised...”

 

“It’s fine! I’m fine,” she said, waving his apologies away blindly, tears stinging her eyes. “Could you…?” She gestured vaguely at her face, as she shrugged out of her work robes.

 

“Shit…” He cast around, only finding his own work robes to hand. “Hold still,” he said, gently dabbing and wiping, trying to get as much off of her face as possible.  _ Well, they definitely need to be washed now, _ he thought to himself, still burning with embarrassment.

 

She tried to speak once he had finished, but Theo dashed out of the room, naked, running down the hall to the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a warm flannel, and gently washed her face, as she tried to hold in the giggles that were threatening to burst out of her.

 

“Are you okay, Mina? I’m really sorry about that! Are you hurt at all? Does it sting…?”

 

Hermione laughed then, placing her hand over his mouth before he could apologise again. “It was cum, Theo, not your finger. I’ll live.”

 

“I’m really sorry…”

 

“Shut up and sit down,” she giggled, hugging him tightly. Her eye still felt really sore, but she was too happy to care. “That was a success!”

 

“ _ That _ was a success?” Theo grimaced.

 

“Better than last time, right? Lay down,” she instructed, waiting until he did so and then snuggling into his side.

 

“I suppose by that low benchmark, ejaculating in your eye counts as a veritable triumph,” he muttered.

 

She sniggered and kissed him on the cheek. “And now we have a chance to regroup, recharge, and try again.”

 

“You’d risk that again?”

 

She leant over him, capturing his lips. “Despite the fact that my eye will be wonderfulIy bloodshot tomorrow--and I'll no doubt have to lie to my co-workers when they ask me what happened--I would risk it several times a night, Mister Nott. I’m happy to do whatever, whenever, however. Up to, and after, you feel like yourself once more.”

 

Her free hand was gently caressing his chest and dropped lower to skate over his thighs. Theo flinched and gently grabbed her wrist.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I… Not there, please.”

 

“Why not?” she said firmly, a frown creasing her forehead. “Can I not include your legs in our lovemaking? Is kissing your thighs off limits?”

 

“Mina, please!”

 

She was startled by his outburst. With a frown she stood up, walking across the room and flicking the light on.

 

“Hermione!” There was a flurry of bedclothes as Theo desperately covered himself.

 

“Theo,” she sighed, walking back towards the bed and divesting herself of her remaining clothes. He was staring at the window, bundled up in the duvet. “I know there are scars you haven’t shown me, and I’m guessing that you are still self-conscious about them.” She lay down on the bed, facing him, her head propped on one hand as the other gently tugged at the duvet. “Show me.”

 

For a long time there was no answer. Theo merely stared at nothing in particular. Then he sighed. “I haven’t shown you because they are worse than the others. It’s part of the reason why walking was so difficult in the early days… that bastard cut through some vital tendons apparently.”

 

“You got past that. You can walk perfectly now.”

 

“But I’m still a scarred mess from the waist down.”

 

“Stop it! You are supposed to be working on your anger towards Adrian for what he did, but I do not for one minute believe that Doctor Phillips intended for you to replace that anger with melancholy and dejection!”

 

Theo rolled towards her, onto his back with a sigh. He lifted the edge of the duvet cover and threw it aside, raising his arms to cover his face with his hands.

 

Hermione was glad he had; for the briefest of moments her eyes opened wide in horror, and she had to fight her instinct to gasp, to cry out in sympathy, to wail and hug him. Any one of those could have done irrevocable damage to Theo’s self-esteem, setting them back a long way. A long, deep, quiet breath in was the only sound she made. Her eyes took in the crisscrossed lines, pale white in the light. They decorated his thighs, at one point looking like a tally of days the lines were so close together. She couldn’t help wincing as she saw the cuts across his shins; she knew, that close to the bone, those cuts would have been excruciating. She could see many cuts, almost too many to count. Some scars were small and well healed, little more than a tick of pale skin. Others looked deep and jagged as if the flesh had been torn open. She slowly released the breath she had been holding.

 

“If we eventually have a baby,” she said quietly, “assuming your research finds a way, there’s a real possibility of stretch marks. On my belly, maybe even my back, my breasts too. Do you think the sight of those ugly wounds would turn you off?”

 

Theo sat up, cupping her cheek gently. “Of course not! Those will be beautiful badges of honour, battle scars to show that you are strong. Maybe they could even be called tiger stripes, signs of a fierce woman, not to be messed with.” He smiled at her, kissing her softly.

 

“So why,” she whispered against his mouth, “are your scars any less valid? You earned yours in a battle for survival that will far surpass any I will face. They are beautiful.” She pushed his chest, urging him down onto the mattress again. Lowering her face, she kissed his ankles, his shins, his knees. Her lips touched as many scars as she could reach, almost blessing each one.

 

His hand stroked along her leg, cupping a buttock before slapping it firmly.

 

She gasped and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Oo, Mister Nott…” she purred. She dipped her head to run her tongue along his length as it twitched and began to grow again. “Well, that's encouraging,” she whispered.

 

“Looks like you have a magic touch, Miss Granger.”

 

“So it would seem. I guess we had best not waste it.”

 

Sitting up, Theo kissed her, guiding her to the mattress before taking a breast in his hand, sucking on the other nipple firmly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, moaning in pleasure as his hand slid lower, brushing through the tangle of hair above her core. She gave a hiss of pain as the edge of one his nails caught a hair and plucked it out.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered, looking downwards to check she was okay. Unfortunately Hermione also lifted her head to look, and as Theo turned back towards her, their heads collided. “Ow, dammit…”

 

“Ow,” she cried, hand lifting to her nose.

 

Everything stopped as they looked at each other, Theo holding his temple, Hermione holding her nose. There was a beat of silence before they both sniggered.

 

Theo dropped his head onto her chest, and she held him close, still giggling. “We used to be great at this,” he muttered.

 

“We still are, just a little out of practise.”

 

“Well, I guess we'd best keep practising then,” he said, kissing her chest and gradually slithering lower.

 

Her breathing sped up as hot breath ghosted across her thighs. She closed her eyes as she felt the first confident swipe of his tongue, hot and wet across her core. His hands urged her legs wider, and he slipped a finger within her, his tongue circling her clit gently, pressing and stroking. It had been so long without this feeling--so very, very long--she felt herself building rapidly. Dizziness swept over her as his fingers filled her, his mouth sucking firmer on her aching clit. In her mind she could see his smile as he deftly built her up and up until, with a shuddering moan, the dam broke, and she fisted her hands in the bedclothes. His head was squeezed between her thighs as she bucked slightly, his mouth and fingers never letting up the pressure for a moment.

 

It became too much after a while, the sensitivity almost painful, and she reached down, urging him up. His mouth tasted of her, and she nodded encouragingly as she felt the head of his cock line up with her, pressing against her entrance.

 

Taking his weight on his elbow, Theo gently stroked her thigh, her stomach, her breasts, tweaking a nipple. All the time he held himself just on the edge of penetrating her, and it was driving her crazy.

 

“Haven't forgotten how to tease, have you?” she said, her voice desperate and low.

 

“Guess I haven't forgotten everything,” he said with a grin.

 

She opened her mouth to answer, but it turned into a low moan as he finally slid forward. His pelvis ground against her overly sensitive clit and she gazed up at him with lidded eyes. Wrapping her legs around his waist she pulled him closer, driving him deeper inside her with each thrust.

 

Their combined moans filled the air, and she could sense he was getting closer to his own orgasm. Taking control she rolled them to the side, putting him on his back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she set the pace, rising and falling above him. Hands freed, he reached up to squeeze her breasts, caressed her sides, and planted a firm slap on her arse.

 

Speeding up her thrusts Hermione folded down to capture his mouth, her hair falling either side of him. She felt him go rigid and sat up quickly.

 

His eyes were wide, his breathing rapid; it wasn’t in pleasure though.

 

“Theo? Are you okay, love?” She gently stroked his chest, recognising the signs of a panic attack coming. “Theo, look at me. Look at me, sweetheart.” She touched his face softly, seeing his eyes focus on her. “I’m here. Come back to me, Theo. You’re okay.”

 

Climbing off of him she flicked a bedside light on, then lay at his side. She continued to murmur to him, giving him space to breathe, to use the exercises he had practised with Justin. After a few minutes he gave a shuddering sigh, hands lifting to cover his face.

 

“Sorry, Mina, I don’t know what happened there. Everything was going great, it was feeling amazing… Then, when you laid down on top of me, and your hair fell around my face… I don’t know…”

 

“You were pinned, your face covered… You felt trapped.”

 

He nodded. “Dammit, I thought I was over this!”

 

“It’s unexpected, but it’s nothing we can’t manage. We’ll just try a different position.”

 

“How many will make me freak out, I wonder?”

 

“We will keep trying them until we know which ones work best for both of us, and stick with them!”

 

He sighed dejectedly. “I really love it when you’re on top though.”

 

“So do I. I’m sure we can work a way around it. Maybe it’ll be okay if we’re sat up, or if I’m facing the other way… as long as I don't cover your face completely...”

 

He grinned and kissed her firmly. “Sounds like you’re excited for some experimentation, Miss Granger.”

 

“I must confess that there are  _ several _ positions I have heard of that interest me… Ginny is particularly fond of one she calls ‘The Grinder’; you can actually hear the capital letters when she says it! This seems like a perfect opportunity to try them all.”

 

“The opportunity to have you in many different places and angles sounds like a fun new hobby!” He glanced down and sighed again. “Though it looks like all that fear scared him away tonight.”

 

She grinned and kissed him on the nose. “Oh no, we’re not stopping until both of us are satisfied! Allow me…” She shuffled down the bed, and Theo felt that incredible warm, wet heat as her mouth enveloped him again.

 

Mutual satisfaction did not take long.

 

~~~


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 3

Draco stared into his drink, seeming to find the bubbles skating over the surface of the golden liquid incredibly interesting. Around them, the occupants of the other tables and benches continued to chatter and laugh. In their booth, however, the silence stretched on, and the mounting tension was palpable.

 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Theo said.

 

“That’s not true,” Draco muttered, not looking at him.

 

“It’s been two months since we rescued Hermione, and this is the first time you’ve accepted my invite to Sunday brunch. Well, technically you didn’t accept; I just had you tailed and followed you here.”

 

“Well, I’m a busy guy now Adrian’s out of the way. A lot of cases got redistributed…”

 

“Don’t give me that, Malfoy! I checked with Harry after you blew me off for the third week in a row, and the caseload isn’t  _ that _ onerous.”

 

“The fact that you and Hermione have been playing happy little hermits for a month is not my fault. Besides, it’s not really the same now Blaise  _ and _ you are whipped little house bitches,” Draco sneered.

 

Theo sighed. He knew what this was about really. Everything came back to what had happened at New Year, and while Draco had seemed fine for a while, according to Blaise, after everything had calmed down and normalcy returned? It was only a matter of moments before Draco decided to leave, Theo realised, and he didn’t want their friendship to end in this moment: there was no doubt in Theo’s mind that that would happen if he let him walk out. Draco had been his best friend for years, but this rejection, no matter how accepting of the facts he had seemed, had knocked the blond wizard. Theo didn’t want to lose his friendship.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Theo muttered, suddenly leaning over the table and grabbing Draco by the collar, dragging him forward.

 

Their lips met, and Theo saw the grey eyes widen, eyebrows climbing into his hairline. Resolutely, Theo closed his eyes and imagined it was Hermione he was kissing. His tongue demanded entrance, touching lightly against Draco’s lower lip. The kiss was deepened, the blond man hungrily devouring Theo, holding onto the back of his head and taking everything he was given. Theo thought he heard him whimper slightly.

 

The moment ended, and the pair parted with a slight slurp, inches apart and staring into each other’s eyes; dark to grey. Someone at the bar wolf-whistled and Theo resolutely ignored them. Draco’s pale skin was flushed, and his lip trembled slightly, seeming on the verge of speech.

 

Theo held up a finger, placing it between them. “That’s all, mate. Just this once!” He smiled slightly, his eyes flicking away in embarrassment, before returning to Draco’s resolved. “I love you, you stupid, wonderful fool. You are the best friend I have ever had, and I see no reason for our friendship to end.” He sat down, picking up his glass and downing a large gulp of his pint.

 

Draco sat slowly, seemingly stunned into silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but Theo pointed at him, interrupting once more.

 

“Look, I’m not going to take no for an answer. We’re going to be friends whether you like it or not! You’ll find someone else, someone who’s a better fit for you than I ever would have been.”

 

Draco looked down at his drink again before taking a small sip of the golden liquid. “Okay. I know you love her, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” He smiled as Theo raised an eyebrow. “No, really! I know I gave you and Hermione a hard time… I mistreated her because I was jealous. I apologise.”

 

“Not me you should say that to, mate. Technically she’s your sister now, so...”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her too. Anyway, it’s enough, for now.”

 

“‘For now’?” Theo grinned. “You think something will happen in the future?”

 

“Well, maybe not yet,” Draco said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, “but now I know you really are a shit kisser, it makes me think that she might get tired of putting up with it, eventually.”

 

He gave a cry of mock pain as Theo punched him on the shoulder. “Fuck off, you cheeky git! That was a good kiss, and you know it!”

 

“Yeah, I suppose I’ve had worse.”

 

The pair laughed and clinked their glasses together. Theo finally felt himself relax a little more; he wasn’t going to lose his friend.

 

“Who are you making eyes at, anyway?” Draco said, wiping the beer foam from his upper lip. “I’ve seen you looking at the bar, shaking your head, nodding, and generally acting suspicious. You’re not half a stealthy as you think you are. If I turn around to look I better not see some giant, hairy shouldered biker that you’re trying to set me up with! I still have standards.”

 

“One, I’m not trying to set you up,” Theo said, holding up his middle finger. “Two.” His other middle finger saluted the blond wizard. “He’s not a hairy biker. Three, personally I think you’re perfect for each other.” Theo lifted Draco’s glass, downed it, and playfully swatted his friend on the back of the head as he walked towards the door. “Four,” he called over his shoulder, “one was obviously a lie!”

 

He grinned at the table and saw Draco swallow nervously as he heard the scrape of the bar stool, and the footsteps coming closer. His eyes lifted to see the newcomer, swiftly noting the long brown coat--a match to his own that lay beside him--and his gaze seemed to be caught in the almost black eyes that looked back at him.

 

_ Good luck, Roberts, _ Theo thought to himself, pulling his coat from the rack by the door and putting it on.

 

“Huh,” Draco grunted, as Darryl sat down and placed two fresh pints on the table. Theo turned to leave and heard Draco shout after him, “Am I babysitting, or what?” Theo carried on walking, waving two fingers at Draco and stepping out into the street.

 

The last thing he heard as the door closed was Draco saying, “Look, boy…”

 

_ Ouch _ , Theo thought with a laugh,  _ that’s a good start... _

 

~~~

 

“Algie is honoured to greet the heirs of Malfoy and Nott!” The wizened elf dropped into a low bow.

 

“Well,” Hermione said out the side of her mouth, “that's a very different greeting to the one I got last time.”

 

Theo smiled and placed a finger on his lips. Nodding his head to the elf, he said, “Algie, please convey our regards to your Mistress, and say that we would speak with her.”

 

“At once, Master Nott!” The elf vanished with a soft pop.

 

“Oo, so formal, Mister Nott,” Hermione purred, stroking his arm. “I like it when you play Mister Darcy.”

 

“Who?”

 

“We have got  _ so _ much good television for you to watch!” she giggled. “I might have to get you a frock coat…”

 

“I’m sure I have one, somewhere.”

 

Hermione gave a funny whimper and bit her lip.

 

Before he could question her further, the wrought iron gates swung open on silent hinges, and Algie reappeared. “Please follow Algie, Master, Mistress.” He gave another low bow before setting off up the path.

 

Hermione felt her nerves jangle slightly at this walk.

 

The gardens were as beautiful as ever, the gravel paths branching off in various directions to lead through the decorative beds, lined with well-tended shrubs and trees. She complimented Algie on his care of them.

 

“Mistress Malfoy is too kind to Algie,” he said with a bow, the motion looking strange as he continued to walk. “Mistress Pansy tends the gardens. Algie is merely her helper.”

 

“You should ask about the shed,” Theo said quietly.

 

Algie gasped and covered his mouth, stumbling to a halt. “Master Nott must not try to break into Mistress Pansy's shed again, sir! Mistress Pansy so was  _ most _ displeased!”

 

Theo grinned. “It was ten years ago. I'm sure she's forgotten about it by now.”

 

Algie continued walking, looking sternly at Theo. “Mistress has not forgotten, sir. She has placed extra hexes on the door, specifically keyed to Master Nott and Master Malfoy!”

 

Hermione stared at Theo. “What did you two do?”

 

“It was Malfoy's fault, he dared me!” He shrugged and laughed. “We were only kids.”

 

“Old enough to know better, I'm sure,” she said with a sniff.

 

A short while later they were being ushered into a room that Hermione had not seen before; this part of the house had been declared off limits during the party.

 

The room was large, with floor to ceiling windows along two walls. In the centre of the room were two pale cream sofas, facing each other over a low, dark wood table with a glass top. On the left-hand wall was a fireplace with a beautifully carved wooden surround. It was flanked by bookcases, filled with all manner of books, and Hermione felt her fingers itch at the sight of them; she was insanely jealous of the sheer amount of books she had seen in Pansy's home so far!

 

Theo recalled her attention with a smile, nodding towards the far end of the room and the large windows. Delicate white voiles obscured them slightly, but she could see that one of the windows was actually a door. She could see Pansy and Harry out on the patio outside, sat at a small table.

 

“It's not serious though,” Theo said with a snigger.

 

“Definitely not,” Hermione said seriously, her lips quivering, “they just hang out… all the time.”

 

“For two years…”

 

They watched as Algie appeared outside and exchanged a few words with Pansy. Harry stood immediately and came towards the door.

 

“Hermione! Theo! Great to see you both!” He strode across the room, sweeping Hermione into a tight hug, extending his hand to Theo as well. “What brings you over?”

 

“Well,” Theo said, feeling suddenly awkward, “things were left… badly. At Christmas, I mean.”

 

Harry waved his hand. “Theo, seriously, don't worry about it.”

 

“I do worry about it though.” He looked over Harry's shoulder to Pansy, stood in the doorway. “Because people seem to have the wrong impression, and that has led to some misplaced feelings.”

 

Pansy walked forward slowly, nodding politely to Hermione; she, in turn, smiled tightly. “Misplaced feelings?” Pansy said, an eyebrow lifting. “I can assure you that no feelings have been misplaced by me, Theodore.”

 

“Pans, love… can we just…” Harry gestured outside. “Let's go outside, we'll have some tea and talk about this.”

 

Pansy smirked, merely a slight twist to her lips, but turned and led the small group out onto the patio. Settling herself on one of the chairs, she picked up her teacup and took a sip, her eyes fixed on Hermione.

 

Algie appeared and poured tea for Theo and Hermione, then vanished when Pansy dismissed him.

 

“How are things going with you two?” Harry asked after a moment, trying to break the tension.

 

“Good,” said Hermione, holding Pansy's gaze.

 

“Look,” said Theo, “I appreciate the attempt, Harry, but we need to get all the cards on the table and clear this thing up.”

 

Pansy smiled and folded her hands in front of her on the table. “So let's get to the heart of the matter. You left my dear cousin brokenhearted when  _ she _ came along.” Pansy stabbed a perfectly manicured nail at Hermione. “Laila’s family, myself included, were delighted that she had found love, and we were excitedly awaiting the moment when you would finally propose. Instead, you let someone far beneath your station steal your affection away.”

 

Harry had sat back in his chair, one hand over his eyes. Hermione made an effort to close her mouth. Theo merely sat with a small smile on his lips.

 

“Very well. So this is the story you were told by your cousin? That I am the one who left her in the lurch and threw her heart away without a care? It is an interesting tale, Pansy, but there is not one iota of truth within it.

 

“I can say, without a trace of falsehood, that I loved your cousin; I have said that she was the first woman that I truly loved. At least I thought it was love. The fact of the matter is, that when I confessed my love to her, she smiled and thanked me, then told me of the young man from Spain she had been seeing while we had been together. She was away often, and on these trips, she stayed with him; I can only imagine what tale she spun him if she said anything.

 

“Laila and I broke up a full three months before Hermione joined the Spell Damage Research team. Hermione did not turn my head from your cousin, Pansy. Hermione lifted me up from where I had been languishing.”

 

Pansy shook her head dismissively. “That makes no sense, at all. You and she took a trip for several weeks, and when she returned she was devastated because you had broken up with her! It was then that we learned that you had your eyes set on Hermione, had met her while travelling!”

 

Harry looked up. “When was this supposed to have happened?”

 

“Around the end of September, two years ago.”

 

Harry frowned, thinking hard. “Malfoy took some time off around then, something about the Witch Weekly competition… Yeah, he'd won it for the third, or fourth year in a row, so he organised a lad’s holiday.”

 

“He did, third time,” said Theo. “I went on it, as did Marcus and Blaise. Blaise told us he intended to propose to Ginny when we got back. I assure you that we did not encounter Hermione during our travels.”

 

“For my part,” Hermione said, “I rarely took any holiday when I worked in the International Team, and it was around that time that I was being interviewed for the role in the Spell Damage Research team. I gave my notice a couple of weeks later and worked through until November when I changed roles.”

 

“How…?”

 

“You've been lied to, Pansy,” Hermione said, not unkindly. “Laila tried to save face and cover up her infidelity by spinning you a tale that made out that Theo and I were at fault.”

 

“And I bought it,” Pansy snarled.

 

“Your cousin is an accomplished liar, Pansy,” said Theo. “She had me fooled for months. On my honour, I did not throw your cousin away for Hermione. I left her because of her duplicity and faithlessness.”

 

“I see,” Pansy said, her face expressionless.

 

“Sweetheart?” Harry reached a tentative hand towards her.

 

“I think…” Pansy drew a breath in, and Hermione could see the emotions chase briefly across her face; her eyes glistened with tears, a tendon was taut in her cheek, and her fingernails were digging into the tablecloth in front of her. “I believe that I have wronged you, Theodore. I have wronged both of you… in the most awful way…” Pansy broke off, standing and walking away to lean on the marble rail.

 

The men glanced at each other, but Hermione kept her eyes on Pansy, so she was the only one to see the tear splash onto the stonework between the dark-haired woman's hands. She stood, holding out a hand to the men as they made to join her. Walking slowly towards the rail she heard Pansy take a shuddering breath.

 

“Pansy…” Hermione began, but the other woman turned and held up a hand to stop her.

 

“You cannot forgive what I have done, Hermione. To you… to both of you.” Tears fell freely now, and Hermione heard Harry stand in a rush and come around the table.

 

“You have done nothing to us, Pansy. You were deceived by your cousin and fed lies. Of course, you would believe the worst of me, hearing that.”

 

Harry put an arm around Pansy's waist, but she pushed away from him.

 

“No. I did worse than that!” she wailed. “I am the reason that you lost your baby!”

 

Hermione gaped at her. “What? No!”

 

“I am! You were in my house, and I took great pleasure in telling you about Laila! Your reaction told me that Theo had said nothing of her, and so I twisted the knife even more!” She turned away, hands covering her face. “If I had not been so heartless when you were already overwrought, then you would not have miscarried!”

 

Theo was stunned, staring from one to the other, unable to get his thoughts straight. He felt anger bubbling up inside him, but as he was about to speak, he saw Hermione glaring at him. She shook her head once. Grinding his teeth Theo subsided, but his hands were clenched into fists beneath the table.

 

Hermione stepped forward, taking Pansy's hand and forcing the woman to look at her. “You did not cause it, Pansy. I promise you this! I already felt unwell when I arrived at your home before we had even spoken. The miscarriage was inevitable. Please believe me; it was  _ not _ your fault.”

 

Hermione was startled when Pansy flung her arms around her. A little dazed, she patted the woman on the back awkwardly, as sobs shook Pansy's frame.

 

Harry caught her eye, one eyebrow raised quizzically. Hermione nodded ever so slightly. It was true, as far as anyone could tell. The stress she had been under at the time, even before she had spoken to Pansy, was enough to cause the miscarriage. It was only a matter of unfortunate timing that caused it to start in Pansy's drawing room.

 

After a while Pansy pulled away, dabbing her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. “I apologise for my outburst. Many times I have replayed that day and felt nothing but guilt, thinking that my words caused your loss. My misguided consolation was that you had both wronged my cousin and that this was some form of reciprocity. I confess it did little to ease the pangs I felt.”

 

“I should say not,” muttered Theo, scowling when Hermione glared at him.

 

“No, he is right, Hermione. I have behaved awfully, and I can never expect you to forgive me.”

 

Hermione smiled, a touch of melancholy in her eyes. “Theo and I are speaking to a grief counsellor about it all. It is helping us, though it is still hard. Guilt, anger… it is all a natural part of the process.”

 

“Then I need to make it up to you, somehow! First though… would you join me, Hermione? I think I need to send my  _ dear _ cousin some flowers.”

 

“Flowers?” Theo said, his annoyance clear in his voice.

 

Hermione, however, remembered the bouquet she had received from Pansy after her miscarriage; Algie had explained the meaning of the flowers and Hermione realised something about Pansy.

 

“This is not going to be a pleasant bouquet to receive, is it?” she said.

 

Pansy drew herself up, her expression thunderous. “It will look beautiful, and be full of anger and rebuke! My cousin will know the depths of my disdain for her lies!”

 

“I hardly think receiving a bunch of flowers from her cousin is going to convey quite the message you think,” Theo said with a disparaging grimace.

 

“No, Theo,” said Hermione, “flowers having hidden meanings, and the right combination can deliver a subtle, yet powerful message. Such as Sea Pink and white poppies.”

 

A pretty blush graced Pansy's cheeks, softening the severity of her expression. “Laila learned, as I did. She will know my meaning, Theo.”

 

“Then by all means,” Theo said, still not convinced, but unwilling to argue the point any further.

 

“We will be in my shed. If you need either of us, send Algie,” Pansy said.

 

She took hold of Hermione’s shoulders and steered her through the gap in the marble rail, down the short flight of steps that led into the rear garden area. Together they walked along the narrow gravel path that led to the tiny wooden shed, set to one side of the garden.

 

Theo watched in amazement as the two women vanished inside; he noticed Harry’s mouth was open too. “I’m guessing you’ve not been allowed in there either?”

 

“She threatened to hex my knob off if I tried, mate.”

 

“Malfoy dared me to try and break into that shed when we were kids. When she found me at the door, I genuinely thought she was going to kill me.”

 

“What do you suppose is in there?” Harry asked, settling back in his chair.

 

“Knowing Pansy?” Theo shrugged. “I wouldn’t like to speculate. Especially not to the Head of the Auror Department.”

 

Harry gave a snort of laughter. “As much as she professes to be a heartless bitch, and acts like everyone is beneath her, she really does have a heart of gold.” He gave Theo a nudge. “Not afraid of trying new things either, if you get my meaning?”

 

“Yes, loud and clear,” Theo said with an uncomfortable smile.

 

“Ah, lighten up, Theo. I know we’ve not really become close friends over the years, and me and Malfoy have a bit of a rocky relationship, what with me being his boss, and him having the world’s most delicate ego… That’s no reason that we can’t be mates. We’re allowed to have friends that don’t like each other.”

 

“I’d like that, Harry, truly I would. It’s not that though. I find certain things hard to talk about; emotions and showing them in public especially.”

 

“I’m guessing Malfoy isn’t the best person to talk about that sort of thing with? He’s never really struck me as the sort to show anyone that he experiences emotions...”

 

Theo gave a huff of laughter. “No, though, to be fair to him, there were… things that he had to work through. It might be that recent events will mean he is more relaxed around everyone.”

 

“Okay, suitably mysterious pronouncement, but I’m thinking that’s all you’re willing or able to say on the subject?” He shrugged at Theo’s nod. “Well, I’ll just continue to live in hope that one day Malfoy will walk into the office, humming and smiling. Moody bastard just needs to find a man to give him a damn good dicking.”

 

Theo choked on his tea, coughing and spluttering.

 

Harry merely grinned at him. “Oh yeah, I know that Malfoy’s gay. Well, ‘strongly suspected’ would be more accurate.” Harry waved a hand vaguely. “Okay, I had some slight inkling that he was possibly into other men. Thanks for clearing that up for me though.”

 

“I confirmed nothing,” Theo said wiping his face with a napkin.

 

Harry rocked his head from side to side. “Yeah, you kinda did. Look, there have been signs; the way Draco acted around you, some of the things he said, recently the way he’s been treating Roberts. My suspicion, and feel free to stay quiet if this is right, is that he had a long time crush on you… he was embarrassed by his feelings so masked it with camaraderie, hoping for a chance to express his true feelings at the opportune moment. When that finally happened, sometime in the recent past, he was rebuffed. He is currently moping around, flipping between rejected melancholy, and stiff upper lip normalcy.” Harry glanced at Theo from the corner of his eye. “Close?”

 

Theo remained quiet, not quite meeting the Auror’s eyes.

 

“Can’t be the Head of the Department without picking up some observation skills,” Harry said, taking another sip of his tea. He grimaced. “Bleh, gone cold. Another drink?”

 

“I wouldn’t say no to something a little stronger than tea.”

 

“Beer okay? Or stronger?”

 

“Beer would be fine, thank you. Bit early for the hard stuff for me.”

 

While Harry called Algie, asking for him to fetch them some fresh drinks, Theo sat in silence, mulling things over. He wasn’t one to talk openly about his feelings, but other than in his solo sessions with Doctor Phillips, he found he was avoiding discussing many things. He needed to open up to someone, he knew.

 

Hermione was too close, and their situation was hard to discuss with each other with any real dispassion. Draco wasn’t an option, at all! Blaise’s advice, whilst usually solid, was usually a little too overblown for his taste. Unless he was going to try and talk to Pansy or Ginny about such intimate matters… He mentally shuddered at the thought of Ginny’s expression should he go to her. She would be worse than Blaise, and twice as explicit, he was sure! As for speaking to  _ Pansy _ …

 

A tall glass of beer was placed in front of him by Algie, and he realised that Harry had asked him something. “Sorry, I missed that,” he said, nodding his thanks to the elf.

 

“I asked how things are between you and Hermione? You had a lot to work out between you. I wondered how things were going.”

 

“I was just wondering that myself,” Theo said, plucking the glass from the table and taking a long drink. “My research is… slow. Even though we are not yet trying for a child, the fact that I have not managed to find a solution plays on my mind constantly. I wanted to thank you for letting me into Adrian's house again, by the way.”

 

“Those books prove useful?”

 

“I think they will, yes. They are written in a cypher, but I think I'm making headway at finding the key.”

 

“Anything we can help with, just shout.”

 

“I will do, thank you.” Theo sighed. “Now I just have to deal with my other… issues.”

 

“You know…” said Harry, “I remember, way back when the war ended, I had a little touch of something like PTSD.”

 

“I had no idea.”

 

Harry shook his head, taking a sip of a fresh cup of tea. “I don't think anyone does. I never spoke to anyone about it, not until quite recently.” He toyed with his cup, staring off into the middle distance. “Hermione knows a little, and Ron too, of course. We all had a bit of trouble adjusting at first, but we each found a way to deal with it. Hermione threw herself into her NEWTs and then her work, Ron decided to leave the Aurors and go into business with George. I tried to muddle through it, but it caused problems between Gin and me. It led to us splitting up, amicably as it happened, but still…”

 

“What sort of problems, if you don't mind my asking?”

 

Harry blew out his cheeks. “I got angry with her for the smallest reasons. Just stupid arguments that meant nothing. We had difficulty connecting too, you know… sexually.”

 

Theo looked away, partly in embarrassment at Harry's frank words, mostly so Harry couldn't see the recognition in Theo's eyes.

 

“Of course,” Harry continued, “that led to more arguments and difficulties, as certain things would set me off. In the end, Ginny and I decided that we had hurt each other too much and that I needed to sort myself out before I could ever be happy with another woman.”

 

“You seem to be pretty settled now. I'm guessing you got some help?”

 

“In a sense,” Harry grinned. “It’s why I’m living the free and single life.”

 

Theo stared at him for a while. “Uhuh.”

 

“Yeah, being able to run and be free, love ‘em and leave ‘em? There’s no pressure, no expectation. It was what I needed, to be honest. After years of being branded ‘The Chosen One’, with everyone looking at me, expecting me to lead the charge, or to  _ do _ something special… I was finally free of my fear and doubt.”

 

“So you never… talked about it until recently?”

 

“Not as such, no. I’ve only really spoken to Pansy about it. We’re very similar people; just looking for fun, no strings, no attachment. What?”

 

Theo shook his head, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Nothing, nothing... Just seems you've been seeing a lot of each other at the moment."

  
"We're just having fun, is all. She’s probably the most flexible woman I’ve ever been with if you get my meaning."

  
"Mmhm..."

  
"It's nothing serious. Hell, neither of us are settling down any time soon! We're just... enjoying ourselves."   
  


"Exclusively?"

  
"Well... I haven't said anything to her, but I don’t think so... Mind you, I don't think we've had  _ that _ talk... Don't need it though, because we're not actually exclusive...Pretty sure we’d both agree on that."   
  


"So you'd date someone else if Pansy wasn't available one night?" Theo said, coughing to cover the urge to laugh.

  
"Sure!” said Harry brightly, then he frowned. “Well, maybe... I don't really know, to be honest…” He seemed to give it serious thought, taking another swig of tea. “I think that'd be a bit off, to grab someone else just because Pansy wasn’t free. I'd probably just cancel... Why are you smiling?"   
  


"No reason..."

 

“Anyway!” Harry said firmly, draining his teacup. “I worked through my issues, when I wasn’t working, with reckless flirting, partying, and meaningless relationships. Only you can decide the best way to get through any issues you have. People can suggest things, but in the end, it comes down to you and Hermione working it out together.”

 

Theo nodded, eyes fixed on the shed door, watching for the ladies to come back out. Part of him wanted to know what was going on in there; most of him wanted to simply see the love of his life. “Expression of my feelings has never really been a strong suit of mine. Especially since the kidnap, and everything that came afterwards.”

 

“You want my advice?”

 

Theo nodded, noting that Harry’s eyes looked a little bleary. “Of course.”

 

“No matter how awkward, and clumsy, and scary it might seem? Just tell her. Any way you can. Write it down and leave it as a note for her to find. Tell her how you feel, what you feel. Hell, tell her where you see yourselves in a year’s time. Let her know that this is something that you are  _ both _ fighting for. As I said to you before; you will never find someone more deserving of your trust, loyalty, and love, than my sister from another Mister.”

 

“How much have you had to drink today, Harry?”

 

“Five or six. This might even be my eighth. But I’m only drinking tea!”

 

“Uhuh?”

 

“Black.”

 

“As an Englishman should...”

 

“… with rum.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Harry leant over and put his hand on Theo’s shoulder, waiting until Theo looked at him. He pointed at him sternly, his finger wavering a little. “Do it sooner rather than later; letting this sort of thing fester in the shadows is what broke Gin and me. We may never have been a forever couple, but we never got the chance to truly find out what we could have been. Don’t let that happen to you two, because the pair of you together are fucking beautiful!”

 

~~~

 

Hermione didn't know what to think as Pansy dragged her towards the little shed.

 

It didn't seem ominous in any way: a small, green, slatted wood shed, with a simple door and padlock. There was a small window on the side, the interior dark. There was a silver plaque on the door, with black, cursive script, spelling out 'Pansy’s’.

 

There was nothing to indicate what lay within, and Hermione wondered what all the secrecy was about. Pansy had apparently terrorised Theo and Malfoy when they had tried to look inside.

 

Waving her wand in a complicated pattern, Pansy lifted a number of jinxes and hexes from the door before pulling out a perfectly ordinary looking key. Inserting into the lock, she twisted it, and the padlock dropped into her hand. Casting a quick look around, Pansy pushed Hermione inside and closed the door behind them.

 

The area around them was pitch black, small and cramped with the two of them; Hermione could feel a wall in front of her, the side walls also hemming her in, Pansy crushed in beside her as she fumbled with the padlock in the dark. There was a hard  _ snick _ as the lock engaged.

 

“ _ Lumos _ ,” Pansy said, her wand illuminating a tiny anteroom with a single door in the wall opposite to the entrance. The glowing tip pressed under Hermione's chin, and Pansy glared at her in the stark, white light.

 

"You talk about what you see in here, I will kill you!" she declared.

 

“Okay, relax!” Hermione huffed. “I won't say a word. I don't see what the big deal is… anyway…”

 

She trailed off as the inner door was thrown open. Her mouth hung open as she stepped slowly into the bright, gloriously sunny greenhouse. Large panes of glass lined the walls and the ceiling, stretching away into the distance. The exact length of the greenhouse was obscured by the trees, shrubs, and flowers that stretched upwards. There were raised beds, each filled with a profusion of colours, flowers of all shapes and sizes, tiny white sticks, covered in that same neat cursive writing from the plaque, declared the name of each plant. The air was warm and slightly humid, and the hum of bees could be heard; several bobbed and hovered around many of the flower heads.

 

“NAME?”

 

The huge voice made Hermione almost leap into the air with fright, and she spun around to see a large creature stood, previously unnoticed, by the door. Seemingly made of tightly wound vines, it was at least ten foot tall, shaped vaguely like a troll, carrying a huge tree limb in one giant fist. There were no eyes in its head, just vague gaps in the vines.

 

Pansy was just taking her wand back from the creature, presumably after it had assessed it or something. “Pansy Parkinson,” she said lazily.

 

The creature turned its eyeless gaze upon Hermione, who found her voice gone. Staring up at the massive creature as it flexed its verdant muscles, hefting the huge club, she felt her abruptly watery knees tremble.

 

“Oh, and guest,” Pansy drawled, and the creature subsided instantly, merging back into the vine-covered wall behind it.

 

“What was that?” Hermione squeaked, still trying to stop her knees from shaking.

 

“Dizzy.”

 

“No, just a little shocked…”

 

“No, that's his name. Dizzy. It is what I call him at least; I honestly have no idea what his real name is. He's a wood troll.”

 

“Why have you got a  _ troll _ in your shed… greenhouse… garden?”

 

“Protection, obviously.” Pansy rolled her eyes. “And they call you the bright one…”

 

Hermione closed her mouth firmly, frowning at Pansy's back. “So this is your big secret? A giant indoor garden, in your garden?”

 

Pansy didn't answer leading the way deeper into the large greenhouse. She paused now and then to check a plant or flower, deadheading where necessary, or sniffing the scent of a bloom.

 

Hermione initially felt a twinge of annoyance at being ignored, but quickly found her attention caught by the variety of plants; carnations, roses, gerberas, lilies, bluebells, shrubs of all shapes and sizes. It was an amazing profusion of sights and smells, and soon she just followed Pansy in silence, taking the chance to smell the blooms and exclaim over the fabulous display.

 

“Love and wisdom, but also patience and charm,” Pansy said in her ear at one point, making her jump.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The aster,” Pansy said, leaning past her to pluck one of the blooms that Hermione was admiring. “It's your birthday flower. September, right?”

 

Hermione nodded, watching as Pansy deftly trimmed the stem before tucking it into Hermione's hair. With a smile, Pansy turned and continued deeper into the greenhouse. Hermione touched the flower gently.

 

“Pansy, what are we doing here?” she said.

 

“We're going to send an explicit message to my cousin, of course.”

 

“I know that,” Hermione said, catching up with the other woman. “I mean…”

 

“Where does this leave you and me?” Pansy stopped and turned to look at her. “I hope that this will start to repair the damage my actions caused. You said that I was not the cause of your loss, yet I have still caused you pain. I would make amends, if at all possible.”

 

“You want to be friends with a Mudblood? After all these years?”

 

Pansy smirked and carried on walking down the rows of plants. “I wish to be friends with a person I secretly admire; you are strong and determined, confident and honest. You are Harry’s best friend, and I would be on good terms with those that he loves. On a less altruistic level, you are the new heir of Malfoy, and it never hurts to have an ally in a powerful house.”

 

“I don’t expect my status as the Malfoy heir will be anything other than in name. It was a means to an end, to hear Draco tell it.”

 

“Do not take it so lightly, nor think it to be so little. Draco will be happy for you to dismiss it as a means to an end, as it will not upset his world; you do have authority over the Malfoy family coffers, after all. I am sure he would not like you putting a stranglehold on his spending!”

 

“I… I could do that? Not that I would!” she added hastily, as Pansy grinned at her over her shoulder. “I had no idea.”

 

“Then there is something we can offer each other then. An ally and mentor to each other. Maybe, in time, a true friendship.”

 

“I don’t intend to be used, by anyone, just so you know.”

 

“And I do not intend to abuse our relationship. Your friendship would mean more to me than any mere favour. Besides, I believe there is something that we have in common that may go some way towards showing you I am not completely the aloof, Muggle-hating, pureblood bitch I seem.”

 

Ahead of them was a curtain of hanging vines, which parted at their approach. Hermione noticed they had now entered a rounded, open area, the glass walls curving gracefully in a large circle. On the other side of the circle, the greenhouse continued on for a short distance, more plants and strangely shaped fruits visible.

 

What she saw in the open circle brought her to a halt, mouth dropping open in shock. “No,” she said in disbelief, “you’re not serious!”

 

“Completely,” Pansy said with a gentle titter. “This is my secret sanctuary, and no one knows about it, except you.”

 

In the centre of the circle were a number of wooden benches, covered in scattered piles of dirt, plant pots of many sizes, small white marker labels, and a number of tools. A pair of pink gardening gloves were hung on a hook at the end of one bench. Beneath the tables were shelves and drawers, all labelled in Pansy’s writing. On the left side was a quaint living area, complete with small kitchen, sofa, bookshelf, and table. The right side, though…

 

“How…?” Hermione breathed, walking forward as if in a dream.

 

“You are aware that we purebloods have  _ some _ wealth, yes? Other than the items I collected personally, I discovered the joy of online auctions when I briefly dallied with a half-blood I met at one the shows.”

 

“You’ve seen them live!?” Hermione screeched, almost grabbing the woman by the arms.

 

“Easy, Hermione,” Pansy said with a laugh. “Yes, 2002, so it was a while ago now. I hold out hope that they will reform properly and I will see them again, with the original lineup. There are rumours, you know? I have a holiday home in America, almost exclusively for that possibility; should they announce a tour, it will be in America first, I am certain. And I will be there to scream along to every word!”

 

“Can I come?”

 

Pansy’s laugh was warm and pleasant, and she put an arm around Hermione. “Of course, we can be groupies! Americans love a British accent, unreasonably so in my opinion, but it doesn’t hurt that all the boys over there are hanging on your every word. I never have to pay for my own drinks if I don’t want to.”

 

Hermione dropped to her knees to get a closer look into the glass display cabinet in front of her, one of several on the right side of the area. The guitar was raised on a cushioning charm that kept it suspended in mid-air, the dark wood gleaming in the light, the orangey burst of colour in the centre of the guitar body bright and vibrant. A messy squiggle in black marker that she had seen in pictures, but never in the flesh, decorated the area just above the strings. There was another autograph below the strings, to the left of the pick guard, this one easier to read. A number of guitar picks of varying sizes lay beneath the guitar, spread out on top of a picture.

 

“Oh my fucking god…” she squealed, clearing her throat in embarrassment. “Sorry… but you met  _ both of them _ !?” She pointed at the photo that lay at the bottom of the case; a photograph of Pansy--eyes shut tight, face fixed in an expression of intense glee--as two men, one on each side, kissed her on the cheek. The man on the right was blond, older, but still looking ruggedly handsome. The one on the left, complete with iconic black top hat…

 

“You met Slash  _ and _ Duff!? You got a  _ kiss _ from  _ both _ of them!?”

 

Pansy laughed, a slight edge of hysteria to it. “It was backstage after Velvet Revolver’s set in Paris 2004. I missed Izzy though, unfortunately.”

 

“ _ Izzy _ was there too?” Hermione could feel her heart racing and looked up at Pansy. The woman’s eyes were gleaming with laughter and pure delight as she nodded rapidly, her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

“Come see!” Pansy said, grabbing Hermione’s hand and hauling her to her feet. She led the way amongst the other display cases; t-shirts with signatures scrawled on them, a red and white paisley bandana, a bass guitar with Duff’s signature and a number written on it, the certificate of authenticity lying beneath.

 

She eventually stopped at a large noticeboard covered in photographs. They were Muggle photos, so didn’t move, but Pansy was in every single one of them, looking extremely excited. Axl Rose, Slash, Duff McKagan, Izzy Stradlin, Steven Adler, Gilby Clarke, Scott Weiland, Dizzy Reed, sometimes more than one at a time. Many others that Hermione couldn't quite place, but they were familiar.

 

“I managed to catch Izzy at the next show in Barcelona, two days later!” Pansy gushed, pointing at a photo of her next to the guitarist.

 

“You  _ followed _ Velvet Revolver on tour?”

 

“Italy, France, Spain, Portugal. Eight days, five shows!”

 

“How did this happen? How did a pureblood witch, brought up with very strong ideas of what proper behaviour is, end up being the world's biggest Guns and Roses fan? And  _ when _ ? When did it start?”

 

“Help me with these flowers, and I'll tell you all about it.”

 

Together the ladies went back to the central workbenches, Hermione casting a wistful look back at Slash’s guitar.

 

“Algie!” Pansy cried.

 

The little elf appeared, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. “Mistress? Algie is here.”

 

“I need to construct a bouquet for Laila. I'm thinking predominantly yellow. Carnations and petunias would be good.”

 

Algie gave a funny gasp. “Yes, Mistress,” he said in a shaky voice. He kept his hands over his eyes and carefully started heading back up the aisles of flowers.

 

“Carnations, and petunias?” Hermione said, tugging a pair of gardening gloves on.

 

“They have many meanings individually, but together, and especially yellow, they convey my disappointment and resentment for her behaviour.” Separating out some twine, Pansy placed her tools in front of her. “Buttercups too, I think, Algie,” she called. “Please? Thank you.”

 

“Also yellow,” Hermione said. “I'm guessing they're angry flowers? Strange when they seem so sweet.”

 

“You aren't far off. They represent childishness. While she is, obviously, a grown woman, Laila’s behaviour is certainly childish, and selfish. If she is to act like a child, only thinking of herself, then she shall receive childish flowers.”

 

Algie rejoined them, one arm covering his eyes now, his other hand filled with several of each flower. He placed them carefully on the bench and stepped back.

 

“Thank you, Algie. Can you check if the aconitum bed has recovered from that bout of grey mould, and started flowering yet, please?”

 

Algie was so shocked that he took his arm away from his face, staring at Pansy in horror. Almost immediately he realised what he had done and shoved his hands over his face again, dropping to his knees and bashing his head on the floor. “Algie is sorry for looking, Mistress!”

 

“Oh my God!” Hermione cried. “Algie, stop!”

 

Pansy let Algie hit his head on the floor a couple more times. “Okay, that's enough, Algie. You are distressing Lady Malfoy.”

 

“Algie apologises, mistresses!” the elf said, clambering blindly to his feet, swaying slightly.

 

Hermione frowned at Pansy. “It was the fact that you demand such barbaric practices of your servant that distressed me, more than the act itself.”

 

“ _ I _ didn't demand it,” Pansy said, looking offended. “My dear mother decided that form of punishment was necessary, and I haven't been able to break him of the habit. Not for want of trying, I assure you.”

 

“You could have stopped him sooner,” Hermione groused.

 

Pansy ignored her, a pair of secateurs held loosely in one hand. “Is there a reason you are upset about my question, Algie?”

 

“Mistress Pansy cannot send  _ those  _ flowers to Mistress Laila!”

 

The elf was trying to look stern, but with both hands over his eyes, it didn't quite carry the same weight.

 

“If my cousin has behaved as deplorably as it seems, then I would be within my rights to send her a single monkshood as a symbol of my anger, and be done with it!”

 

“Algie must put his foot down, Miss!”

 

The pair continued this strange staring contest, with Algie, lower jaw thrust out sternly, facing slightly off to Pansy's right, for a whole minute; Hermione stood to one side, looking between the two of them in confusion.

 

“Fine!” Pansy said at last, with poor grace. “No aconitum then. Stubborn bloody elf… I will have one orange lily instead, please.”

 

“Mistress Pansy! Mistress does not  _ hate _ Mistress Laila!”

 

“Just one, Algie!” She lowered her voice for Hermione's ears only. “If I could get away with it, I'd send her a whole frigging bunch of them!”

 

Algie seemed to be thinking hard and finally sighed. “One only then, Mistress.”

 

“There's a good boy!” Pansy said.

 

As Algie stumped off down the row, muttering under his breath again, Pansy turned to Hermione and said. “You know what basil looks like right?”

 

“Yes, why?” Hermione asked, suspicious.

 

“Quickly! Up the other end and grab the longest basil stalk you can find with a flower on top!” She thrust a pair of pruning shears into Hermione’s hand. “Go, before he comes back!”

 

Too surprised to argue, Hermione dashed up towards the far end of the greenhouse, finding this end full of herbs and flowers that would make spices; chilli plants, coriander, parsley. It was a huge herb garden, but Hermione quickly spotted the distinctive leaves of several basil plants. One was at least two feet high, and almost three foot across. She found the longest stem, checked it had a flower, small and purple, at the top, and pinched it off as close to the ground as she could.

 

Dashing back she handed the stem to Pansy, who stripped the leaves off in one, practised motion. Her wand gathered the leaves and tossed them into the nearest flower bed. Coiling the stripped stem, she stowed it in one of the drawers in the bench.

 

Algie reappeared then, carefully carrying a large, bright orange lily in his hand.

 

“Thank you, Algie, for your assistance,” Pansy said, taking the lily from him. “You may go now.”

 

“Mistress does not need any more help?”

 

“I will call if we have need, I promise. You are a dear, Algie.” Pansy smiled at the elf, even though his eyes were covered.

 

Algie bowed to both of them, nearly aiming in the right direction, and then vanished.

 

“I don't quite understand your relationship with Algie,” Hermione said. “He's your servant, yet he has some sway over you.”

 

“Algie was my nanny when I was very young,” Pansy said, beckoning her over to the bench and starting to carefully trim the stalks of the carnations. “We have always had a strange friendship. I do respect his opinions when he chooses to give them. We maintain the illusion of Mistress and servant when we have guests, but when it’s just the two of us, we bicker like good friends.”

 

“That's... unusual, for a pureblood.”

 

“No, that’s  _ unheard of _ . Most of getting by in pureblood society is image and appearance; show a face that is better than everyone else, and they will come to believe it. It is smoke and mirrors, Hermione, and so very, very dull! Merlin, give me the screech of a guitar, or crashing cymbals; the good, honest energy of a jumping crowd any day!”

 

Pansy passed a pair of smaller, more delicate garden scissors to Hermione and showed her how to prepare the petunias.

 

“So,” Hermione said after they had worked in silence for a while, “how did the whole G n’ R obsession begin?”

 

“It began with Draco and I breaking up, not long after the war. I thought we could work around his homosexuality and still maintain a good façade…”

 

“You knew Draco was gay? Since when?”

 

“Oh, please,” Pansy sneered, “are you telling me you couldn't see it?” She looked at Hermione's expression and put her secateurs down. “Oh, you really didn't see it! I guess I was the only one that got that close to him. Me and that conniving cow, Moaning Myrtle.”

 

“You weren't jealous of a ghost, were you?”

 

“A little, yes. Draco talked to her about all sorts of things that he never confided in me. Bitch took great pleasure in telling me about it too!”

 

“So many questions…” Hermione whispered, shaking her head and focusing on the petunias.

 

“So anyway… After the war, when Draco ended things, I was feeling extremely hurt and angry. I did love him dearly. Foolishly, I decided to Apparate to a place I had only heard of, but never been--lovely town in Kent--and I ended up splinching myself. Did a rather terrible number on my leg, and couldn't walk. I was found by a Muggle, a doctor; their somewhat poor equivalent of a Healer… Oh, of course, you would know… Anyway, he took me in, bandaged my leg, and let me stay at his place until I could walk.”

 

“A little risky, Pansy. He could have been anyone,  _ done _ anything.”

 

“Believe me, darling, if he had tried I would have hexed his dick off!”

 

Hermione sniggered at that, the saucy language surprising her.

 

“So, Tarquin--that was his name, frightfully pretentious--he was a music fan. Lots of records and CDs. He showed me how to use his stereo, and when he was at work on the second day, I put one on; it was already in the player, so I just hit play. It must have been on random because Estranged was the first song that played.”

 

“Oh God, I love that one!”

 

“As you can imagine, that song for a young lady, bereft and thrown away by her school sweetheart, hurt and alone in the Muggle world? It resonated.”

 

Hermione nodded, understanding how a song about lost love would have hit just the right chord. “Civil War is my favourite from that album.”

 

“Yes, I figured. It's why you do that ridiculous American accent, isn't it?” Pansy smiled mischievously as Hermione gasped.

 

“Rude! That's you and Ron that think my American accent is bad!”

 

“Hermione, dear… lots of people think it's bad, not just us two.”

 

“Just remember, you wanted to be my friend!”

 

“I know, it's a terrible quandary,” Pansy sighed, both women laughing.

 

They continued arranging the flowers, the lily taking pride of place in the centre, and the other flowers gathered carefully around it. Instructing her to hold it securely, Pansy slipped the stripped basil stem from the drawer and began to secure it around the bouquet.

 

“So, what's with the basil?” Hermione asked, intrigued.

 

“Basil generally means hate, and, as Algie correctly pointed out, while I do not strictly  _ hate _ my cousin, a basil stem used to tie the bouquet will eloquently set the tone of the whole arrangement, so there can be no mistaking my intent. Algie would never have approved, but the less he knows…”

 

“Wait… why did I have to run and get it before Algie came back? I could have got it after he had gone.”

 

“Just interested to see if I could make you jump when I asked,” Pansy said with a cheeky wink. “Trust me, when I start teaching you how to move in high society, you'll need to react fast to my instructions.”

 

She finished tying the stem with a little flourish, tucking the flower so that it was prominent on the bow.

 

“There,” she declared, “perfect. Now, let's get Algie to deliver this, and give my bloody cousin what for!”

 

~~~

 

He shook his head and looked at the other man, as a loud snore echoed around the garden.  _ Harry clearly can't handle his tea, _ Theo thought with a quiet laugh.

 

The women had been gone for about an hour, and Theo was considering asking Algie to go and check on them again, make sure they hadn't killed one another when the shed door opened.

 

Hermione and Pansy came back up the path after the shed had been properly locked. Pansy was carrying a bouquet of flowers, primarily yellow, with a large, orange lily in the centre.

 

_ Wonder what it all means. Strange to think flowers have meanings… not something I ever learned as a child. _

 

Hermione dropped into the seat next to him with a happy smile, rolling her eyes at Harry, his head lolled back and snoring at the sky.

 

“Hi! Miss me?”

 

“Very much. Your best friend was not the most… stimulating conversationalist. He has had seven or eight cups of ‘tea’ though, so that would account for it.”

 

Pansy shook her head. “Oh, brilliant… He's going to shake the walls with his snoring! He's terrible when he's drunk.”

 

Algie appeared at Pansy's side, and she gave him the bouquet with instructions to give it to Laila.

 

“Tell her that I have spoken with Mister Nott and that I know the truth of things. She is not to contact me for two moons, and I will receive her apology then if she has one to give.”

 

Once the elf vanished the trio settled in their chairs. There was still a little bit of tension, but Theo realised it was mostly him and tried to relax.

 

“You two seem to have buried the hatchet,” he noted, indicating the flowers in their hair.

 

“It's an aster,” Hermione said, “my birthday flower. It means I'm charming.” She batted her eyelashes at Pansy, and they both sniggered.

 

“And the white rose?” Theo asked, nodding at the bloom tucked into Pansy's hair.

 

“New beginnings,” she said, reaching out to take hold of Hermione's hand. “We figured that, after You-Know-Who, we don't need one more war.”

 

Hermione giggled at that, and whispered, “What's so civil ‘bout war anyway?”

 

The pair burst into laughter, as Theo just stared at them, thoroughly confused.

 

~~~

 

“Come to bed, darling. It's late.”

 

Theo hummed in response, leant over the book and trying to make sense of the formulaic notations. He felt that he was getting somewhere, he was just missing something.

 

He tried to stop the sigh of frustration, but it was insistent.

 

“Theo,” Hermione said, firmer. “You have an early start tomorrow, don't you?”

 

“Yeah,” he muttered, scribbling down the complicated Arithmantic formula, planning to compare it to the one he had found in…

 

Hermione flipped the book's cover closed, nearly trapping his fingers.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Bed!”

 

“Damn it, Hermione, I'm close. I don't want to lose my thread here.”

 

“You said you were close last week… And the week before that too.”

 

“Wrong turns, that's all,” he grumbled, flipping the book open again and trying to find his place. “Please, let me read. This cypher won't break itself... I'll come to bed later.”

 

Hermione watched him for a moment, wrestling with the idea of trying to physically drag him upstairs. After a moment she sighed. “Goodnight then.”

 

“Night,” he murmured as she kissed him on the cheek. He blew her a vague kiss, his eyes never leaving the page.

 

Hermione trailed her fingers along the wall as she climbed the stairs. She peered over the bannister at the open office door, hopeful. His shadow moved, standing up, and she smiled happily.

 

She saw his hand reach across the doorframe and push the door closed. Hermione dropped back onto her heels, sighing.

 

Hermione knew that what he was doing was for them, but they hadn't talked about what they were going to do if it failed. As time went by, she was finding her optimism waning.

 

She resumed her climb up to the bedroom, tossing and turning for an hour before finally falling asleep alone.

 

~~~


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 4

“You are the most arrogant... the most  _ vain _ man, I have ever met! When Merlin was handing out ego, you seem to have got a double helping!”

 

Ginny paused, frowning down at Blaise as he lounged in his chair, a slightly shocked expression on his face. Everyone else at the large table was silent, watchful.

 

“You are also,” Ginny continued, raising her glass, “the most kind, giving, and beautiful man I have ever had the fortune of knowing, and the perfect husband and father. I cannot picture my life being any more wonderful than it is, with you at my side, and our son in our arms. Happy birthday, my darling! To Blaise!”

 

“Blaise!” Everyone raised their glasses with a cheer and a laugh, as Ginny took a long swallow of her champagne, then planted a lingering kiss on her husband’s mouth.

 

“So?” said Theo a short while later, leaning towards Draco, drawing the word out.

 

“So, what?”

 

“How're things going?”

 

Draco looked at him, a frown creasing his brow. “I'm fine. What is wrong with you? You're talking rubbish. Are you drunk already?”

 

“Never mind,” Theo laughed, waving his hands. “Forget I said anything.”

 

“Gladly.”

 

They lapsed into silence, watching the others and enjoying the music and atmosphere.

 

Blaise's party was going well. The tall man had been completely blindsided by the surprise, which was a good thing, as Ginny had been planning it for weeks. Luring him to his favourite restaurant for dinner and then moving venue to the club, had been the easy part. Making sure everyone was there ahead of time, and keeping it quiet for the last month and a half? Not so much.

 

“Are they ever going to admit it?” Draco said suddenly, nodding towards Harry and Pansy, the latter draped over him, both laughing and completely wrapped up in each other.

 

Theo gave a huff of laughter. “Doubt it, my friend. They're just having fun, free and single with no strings, and no commitment.”

 

“It's been over two years.”

 

Theo hushed him. “Leave them alone, they're enjoying themselves. It'll click eventually.”

 

“What, when she's walking up the bloody aisle?”

 

Theo laughed. “Maybe not even then.”

 

He considered his current surroundings, still feeling a modicum of surprise, that after so long living as a hermit and scared to be around people, he was almost back to his old self again. They were still receiving counselling for their various issues; Theo still felt a well of rage whenever Adrian's name came up, in any context, but he was getting better at dealing with it now. They still had moments where the loss of their baby weighed heavily on their minds, and Theo wondered if they would ever get used to the feeling and loss. He knew Hermione still cried in the shower on occasion, the grief catching her unawares, but it was her private grief, and he had learned not to intrude upon it.

 

In fact, the thing they had found the hardest to learn was to be their own person, independent of the other. That dependency had actually slowed their healing down, but now they were able to act as an individual again things were improving.

 

He had thrown himself back into his work, abandoning his plans for magical and Muggle world amalgamation, and diving back into spell damage with a vengeance. He took his research home with him, his office crowded with books, both magical and Muggle, about the reproductive system. Hermione had started to get a little despondent about matters, almost seeming resigned. He could see it in her eyes whenever he talked about his research. He had tried to take Harry's advice, to show Hermione that this was how he saw them together, with a family of their own. She had started to almost act as if the Arithmancy was beyond her ability to comprehend, which he knew was rubbish, but he also didn't want to start an argument. Theo was determined, he was going to find a way of healing the damage done. It would require another breakthrough.

 

He watched as Hermione dragged Luna and Ginny onto the dance floor, enjoying the sight of her letting her hair down and enjoying herself.

 

Roberts appeared behind Theo's chair and draped himself over both their shoulders. Theo noted Draco actually flinch away from the man.

 

“Gentlemen,” Darryl said, “can I interest either of you in a top up?”

 

Theo lifted his drink and finished it in one gulp. “Sure,” he said, passing the empty glass over. “Why not?”

 

“Draco?”

 

Draco merely waved a hand, almost wafting Darryl away with it.

 

Shaking his head, his easygoing smile faltering just a hair, Darryl patted Theo on the shoulder and headed to the bar.

 

“So, what's going on with you two?” Theo said, raising his voice above the music. “I never did find out what happened after brunch.”

 

“Nothing happened,” said Draco hurriedly. “Why? What did he say?”

 

Theo shrugged. “Nothing to me. Is there something to tell?”

 

“Of course not. Whilst I thank you for the, admittedly misguided, attempt to pair me up with someone, Roberts is not the sort I'm looking for.”

 

“I don't know, I think you'd make a nice couple. The very epitome of opposites attracting! He's so dark, you're practically albino; he's mature and confident, you're insecure and a mess of repressed emotions; he's always friendly, with a sunny disposition, you're all spiky and moody…”

 

“Yes, alright, thank you very much! You can stop whenever you like!”

 

“Alright, don't get upset! I'm just saying, he likes you. That's obvious to me.”

 

“Don't be ridiculous, Nott. He's practically a child.”

 

"Not really, Draco. He's  _ younger _ , sure, but also a fully trained Auror. Calling him a child is just silly and disrespectful. He's certainly an attractive man, right?"

 

Malfoy made a dismissive noise but said nothing more.

 

Theo saw his eyes sneak a glance over to the man in question. He leant over and whispered, "Then why have you been staring at his arse since he left to go to the bar?"

 

Draco glared at Theo, real anger in his eyes.

 

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Hermione landed in Theo's lap and flung her arms around his neck.

 

“Hey!” she said happily.

 

“Hey yourself, good looking.”

 

“Come dance with me. I want to show you some moves.”

 

“Oh, really?” he laughed. “What sort of moves would those be?”

 

“Well,” she drawled, “you remember that film I got you to watch? The one with all the dancing?”

 

“The one with Kevin Bacon?”

 

She sniggered. “No, silly! The  _ other _ one!”

 

“Oh, no!” he declared firmly. “I'll happily hold you in public, walk with you hand in hand, I'll kiss you in front of friends, but I am  _ not _ dancing like  _ that _ in front of anyone!”

 

She pouted and kissed him. “Oh, come on, lover boy. Come dance with baby!”

 

He shook his head firmly, smiling. “No way, no chance, Mina. I love you dearly, but moves like that should not be seen in public.”

 

“Fine,” she said standing and tossing her hair. “I'll just have to dance with Ginny instead.  _ She's  _ up for it!” Poking her tongue out at him she sauntered away, shaking her bum in his direction as she went.

 

Laughing, Theo turned back to Draco, but the blond was gone. Theo sighed and sat back in the chair. Looking around he saw that there was no sign of Darryl either. Theo's eyebrows rose as he thought about that, wondering if his friend had finally plucked up the nerve to do something.

 

Time would tell, he figured.

 

“Mia caro amico!” Blaise shouted at him as he dropped into Malfoy's vacant seat, two shot glasses held in each hand. “I brought you alcohol to toast my good looks with!”

 

Theo took the shot glasses, grinning at Blaise. “To your good looks, your fine cheekbones, and to being older than me for six months!”

 

“You're only as young as the woman you feel!” Blaise declared, clinking his glass against Theo's, the pair of them downing the first shot.

 

Coughing slightly Theo pointed at the dance floor. “Speaking of the woman you feel, I think we might have to pull those two apart at some point!”

 

They watched as Hermione and Ginny danced together in the most lewd and indecent way possible without being naked.

 

“I'm not stopping it, my friend! It's one hell of a show. I might even join them!”

 

“You keep your sexy hands off of my Mina, Blaise!” Theo said with a laugh.

 

“Hey!” Blaise grinned, standing and downing his other shot. “It's my birthday! This could be my present, you know?”

 

As he walked away, Theo tipped his shot back, hissing at the burn. “I'm warning you, Zabini!” he shouted as Blaise stepped onto the dance floor. “Blaise?”

 

Blaise gyrated his way across the floor towards the ladies, snagging Pansy as he passed and spinning her into the mix. The three women draped themselves over him, grinding and pouting seductively.

 

Theo allowed him a full three seconds, laughing at the spectacle, but as soon as Blaise turned to pull Hermione against him, Theo was up and moving.

 

“No, hands off, Zabini!” he yelled with a laugh, grabbing Hermione's hand and spinning her into his arms.

 

“Ahh, Theo, you're no fun!” Blaise laughed, dragging Ginny against him and kissing her hard on the mouth.

 

Theo smiled and shook his head. “Bloody Italians,” he muttered.

 

“Hey there, stud,” Hermione drawled, wrapping one leg around his waist. “You come here often?”

 

Arms around her waist, he lowered her backwards, sweeping her around and pulling her crotch against him. As she swept back up and pressed against him, he could see the passion and lust in her eyes.

 

Flexing his pelvis, Theo winked at her. “How about we show them how to really dance?”

 

Letting go of his inhibitions, Theo danced with Hermione. They danced as if they were the only ones there, with moves dirty enough to make Baby blush.

 

They were so turned on by the time they got home in the early hours of the morning, they didn't even make it upstairs.

 

~~~

 

A month passed, and their return from another party was made in a much more sedate manner.

 

“Did you see Blaise’s face?” Hermione exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear, as she pushed through the front door, leaning on the archway and removing her boots.

 

“I thought he was going to take off!” Theo laughed, shrugging out of his light jacket and hanging it up before slipping his shoes off; despite being technically summertime, it had been a bit cool tonight. “Honestly, when Luca let go of Ginny's hands and took those two wobbly steps by himself…”

 

“He wanted Blaise's cake, and nothing was going to stop him!”

 

“I don't think he could have picked a better time to take his first steps than at his own first birthday party,” Theo said with a grin, dropping onto the sofa, pulling Hermione into his lap and kissing her soundly.

 

“Did you see Pansy's face though?” Hermione said against his mouth. “If ever there was a woman who wanted a baby right at that moment, it was her!”

 

“I never thought of her as the maternal type,” Theo mused. “After Draco, I never saw her as the settling down type either, but here we are.”

 

“Someone needs to have a serious talk with those two,” Hermione giggled. “Honestly, it's ridiculous the way everyone's dropping hints around her and Harry, and they  _ still _ insist it's a bit of fun… What are they waiting for?”

 

Theo frowned slightly, looking up at the ceiling.  _ What was  _ he _ waiting for? _ he mused to himself.  _ Their first kiss was two years ago now. After everything they had been through, should he really be waiting any longer? Or was that his fear talking again? _

 

“You know,” Hermione mused, “it was around this time, two years ago, that you first took my knickers off, right here on this sofa.” She gently took his earlobe between her teeth and sucked it. “I think you should do it again.”

 

All thought stalled in Theo’s mind then, though her breath in his ear produced an instantaneous reaction in his trousers. “Miss Granger,” he breathed, his tone offended, “we’ve just come from a child’s birthday party! This sort of lewd behaviour is unseemly and sordid…”

 

“Then maybe you should spank me?” she whispered.

 

He looked at her, seeing her eyes sparkling with excitement, and frowned.

 

“What?” she asked.

 

“You seem… different,” Theo said.

 

“Really?”

 

“A little, yes. You seem more… horny, to use the vernacular.”

 

“It’s all these different positions we’ve been trying! I can’t stop my mind from imagining all these different scenarios and locations, and well… I really like you inside me.”

 

He laughed. “Far be it from me to stop it! It’s just… No, never mind.”

 

She swivelled around, hitching her skirt up around her waist, straddling him and putting her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong, Theo?”

 

“I feel like there’s something else going on, Mina. Pansy wasn’t the only one at that party that had a ‘look’ on their face when Luca took his first steps.”

 

“Really?” She frowned, but her eyes didn’t meet his. “No, don’t be silly.”

 

“Hermione,” he whispered, “you want to try for another baby, don’t you?”

 

He saw her chin tremble as she bit her lip, tears glinting in her eyes. Mutely she nodded.

 

“Why didn’t you say so, my love? I've spent weeks thinking that you had given up completely, maybe even that you didn’t want me to keep trying to find a solution.”

 

“I felt guilty,” she cried, burying her face in the crook of his neck, “like saying it out loud would be a betrayal of Grace… making her disappear from our minds!”

 

“Hey, hey,” he said soothingly, “it’s not like that at all, darling. Our little girl will always be with us, no matter what. We’ll always remember her, and who she might have been.”

 

She touched his face, kissing him softly. “I’m glad you agree with me that she was a girl. Mum thinks she was too.”

 

“It would have been lovely if the Healers had been able to confirm it. But in my heart, she is a girl, with the perfect name. I’ll always regret not being here…”

 

“Theo…”

 

“Just as you will always feel you could have done more! Don’t try to fool me, Mina. We both know that we still hold a little bit of that pain and guilt inside us, refusing to let it go. We will never replace her, but we can try to give her a sibling.”

 

“What do you mean? Have you…?”

 

“Don't get your hopes up, Mina,” he urged. “I haven't cracked it yet, but I have a formulation running at the moment that I feel better about than any of the others.”

 

“How many have you had?”

 

He blew out his cheeks in frustration. “Too many. But this one has got further than the others. I may need to tweak the Arithmancy a little, but I have real high hopes for this one, Mina.”

 

“I have to confess something,” she said quietly. “I spoke with mum and dad, a few weeks ago. I told them that I was feeling a little jaded with your research… I know that I can’t help…”

 

“No, darling, I’m too anal about  _ letting _ people help,” Theo said with a grin.

 

“Well, that too,” she smirked. “I had almost resigned myself to telling you to stop, even though I know that would have been impossible. I even considered whether adoption would be so bad…”

 

“Would you prefer that?” Theo asked, touching her face gently. “If you are worried…”

 

“I  _ was _ worried. Terrified, in truth. Whether we can even fall, will I be able to carry to term, would there be complications… the risk of failing you again.”

 

Theo kissed her softly, brushing her tears away.

 

“When I told them about it, dad was his usual gruff self, telling me not to be silly. He said, 'that lad will figure it out, you wait and see'. Mum was a little more sympathetic. She told me about your conversation when I was taken… about how we have to let the other fix us, I to help you through your problems, you to help me with mine. I mustn't lose hope, she said.” She brushed a tear from her eye. “And recently? Some of those fears began to melt away. I know you can fix me, Theo.” 

 

“I will do everything I can to get rid of the rest of those fears. But you don't need to be fixed, just held, and loved.”

 

Their kisses were soft and tender, both of them feeling the rising heat between them. Cupping her buttocks, he squeezed and massaged, lifting her slightly, his mouth dipping into her cleavage as she sighed, leaning her head back and pulling his face deeper between her breasts. “Are you sure, Theo?”

 

“Grace may have been unplanned,” Theo said, slowly undoing the buttons of Hermione’s blouse, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed, “but she was never unwanted. The Healers said 'highly unlikely’, not 'impossible'. Even if this formula doesn't work, or even the next, or the next... I think we try it the natural way, and just hope for the best.”

 

He urged her upwards, and she stood on the sofa as he unzipped her skirt. Lifting the material his mouth pressed against her knickers, the pressure making her moan and buck slightly. Lifting her skirt, she pulled it up and off over her head, as his fingers tugged her knickers aside. She cried out as his tongue pushed inside her slit, and she grabbed the back of his head, grinding herself against his mouth.

 

“Oh God, yes!”

 

Never letting up, his tongue working its way across every inch of her and his mouth sucking at her clit, he shifted on the seat. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his trousers and boxers lying discarded. Then he was pulling her sideways, lying full length across the cushions and she gladly followed him, turning to present her backside to him and settling her knees either side of his head as he continued to build the pressure. There was a brief ripping noise, and she felt her knickers being tugged down one leg, one side torn apart.

 

“I’ll repair them later,” he promised, chuckling at the memory of her saying exactly the same to him. His mouth slid up and down her wet slit, tongue skating between her arse cheeks and pressing briefly against the tight ring of muscle.

 

She moaned, the sensation unexpectedly pleasurable. “We will definitely have to come back to that!” she promised as she lowered her head and took his length as deep as she could.

 

His groan tingled across her clit, spurring her on, as her head bobbed up and down, sucking hard. She could feel her orgasm building fast; he always had been particularly skilled in that regard, and she tried to resist the urge to match his pace. She slowed herself, stroking him gently, rising up slightly as his focus moved solely to her clit. It wasn't long before she had to let go of his cock completely, for fear of squeezing it too hard. Her fingers dug into his thighs as she shuddered, every muscle tightening gloriously, sparks flashing before her eyes.

 

Wanting to prolong the sensation she pulled away from his mouth and quickly lined herself up with the head of his cock. Still facing away, she lowered herself gently, wonderfully down, feeling him stretch and fill her. In control now she rose and fell above him, his hands reaching up and round to pinch and caress her nipples.

 

“This is a sight I could get used to,” he said with a grin, slapping her arse cheek.

 

Bouncing harder and faster now she smiled over her shoulder at him. “I did say you might have to spank me.”

 

“That you did,” he said, enjoying the sight of her buttocks almost bouncing before him. He treated her other cheek to a loud slap, laughing at her excited squeal. He rose to meet her now, hips thrusting upwards faster, their flesh slapping together, moans getting louder.

 

Hermione rubbed her clit as she rode him, feeling like she could orgasm again already. As Theo increased his pace, she held still, letting him power into her, her finger rubbing frantically.

 

The pad of Theo's thumb, slick with saliva massaged her arsehole, increasing her pleasure in new ways.

 

Her cries escalated rapidly, as his breathing became ragged. She was there, right at the brink, when his thumb pressed harder, slipping just inside her. Suddenly her vision tunnelled, and she had to hold onto Theo's legs as she came again, harder than before.

 

A shuddering moan burst from her, unexpected in its volume, as Theo came too, almost shouting at the strength of his own orgasm.

 

Their bodies glistened in the lamplight as they slowly rode it out, feeling the moment; their conscious decision to try again, to try and make a new life, despite the odds.

 

She simply knelt there, legs trembling, unable to move yet. After a while he lifted her off of him and laid her down at his side, tucking her head onto his chest.

 

“It works better if you lay down for a bit afterwards,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

 

“Is that so?” she said with a grin.

 

“Absolutely. I read it in Witch Weekly.”

 

“Then it must be true!”

 

“Not everything they print is libellous bullshit, you know, darling.”

 

She laughed, her fingers lightly stroking his stomach. “Maybe not everything. They must get something right occasionally.”

 

“Even a stopped watch is right twice a day,” he joked.

 

She smiled, just listening to his heart beating. It was soothing, and she felt excited for this new journey they were taking. Yet there was also fear and worry.

 

“Are you sure about this, Theo,” she whispered. “Are we doing the right thing? I just worry…”

 

“Sweetheart, don't worry. I am sure, more than I have ever been. And we will do this together this time, no matter what. I will be at your side the whole way, just as you have always been at mine.”

 

She nodded, feeling her doubts ease slightly. She had been feeling a strange mix of hope and fear over the last couple of weeks, ever since she had gotten some light spotting for a few days, and something slightly more after a day or two. It hadn’t been a  _ real _ period, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was more than she’d had for the last six months since Pucey had cursed her.

 

If they fell pregnant, she knew those doubts would return, and she wouldn't feel completely safe until she was holding their child.

 

“Did Witch Weekly happen to mention how many times a night was optimal for conception?” she asked coyly.

 

“Well, not that I recall… but if you wanted to relocate to the bedroom, I'm sure we could try and double our chances tonight?”

 

“So soon?” she said with a grin.

 

He smiled back. “Okay, well maybe give it half an hour or so… I'm also going to have to clean this sofa tomorrow.”

 

“It was worth it,” she said with a laugh.

 

~~~


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 5

“Don't be long, I'm making dinner later, and your folks will be arriving at six.”

 

“I won't,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek, “I'm just going to check in on him.” She smirked. “Got to make sure he's looking after my big, fancy house!”

 

“Oh, he's going to love that,” he said with a laugh. “I take it Pansy has been teaching you some things?”

 

She tilted her head and grinned. “She might have told me not to let him belittle my new role as the heir apparent.”

 

“You're more than the heir apparent, Mina. You are the eldest of the Malfoy line now.” Theo leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Make him squirm,” he whispered.

 

They laughed as she slapped him on the chest. “Don't be mean to my dear brother.”

 

“Dear brother? Yeah, okay.”

 

“And what will sir be doing to fill the time while I am gone?”

 

“I will be going to Diagon Alley, food shopping for dinner.” Theo tried to keep his voice steady, but there was a slight tension in it.

 

Hermione paused.

 

She wanted to question him. She wanted to ask if he was sure, that he would be okay. To ask if he wanted her to come along, or whether Blaise was meeting him. Wanted to  _ tell _ him to take Blaise with him. She wanted to demand that he be careful. Just for a moment she bit her lip and swallowed her words.

 

“Don't spend too much,” she said, her own voice a little unsteady.

 

Her eyes held his, and he smiled at the message in them. “I'll do my best, darling.”

 

“I love you.” She pulled him close and pressed her lips to his.

 

When they parted, he gave a gentle sigh. “I love you too.”

 

She held her breath as she walked towards the fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, and forced herself to throw it in the fire.

 

“Malfoy Manor.”

 

As the fire flared in response, Hermione closed her eyes and refused to look back as she stepped into the flames.

 

She shot through the Floo network, stepping out onto the clean tiled floor of the Manor’s main entrance hall. It was dim, the lamps low and the curtains still drawn, but as she took a couple of steps the light grew, the enchanted lights sensing her presence.

 

For a moment she paced the hall, worrying at a nail or fiddling with the rings in her fingers.

 

_ He’s going to Diagon Alley. It's the first time he's been there, by himself, since Christmas! He's just going shopping. Stop fretting! _

 

Drawing a deep breath she looked around, noting that the lamps were lit brighter to one side and down a corridor on the first floor. It was a quirk she had noted about the Manor; it seemed to always light her way to her destination, even before she knew for certain where she was heading. She wondered if it had always been this way, or if this was a new thing: the Manor helping the new girl orient herself with the expansive grounds.

 

Following the brighter lamps, she soon found herself at the door to the rear parlour. The door was open, and she took a moment to study its occupant unseen.

 

He did not look happy, but even in private he had a guarded demeanour. She watched him pace, arms folded, frowning furiously before staring out the window with a half smile on his lips. After a moment he shook his head and resumed pacing.

 

“You're going to wear that carpet away, brother,” Hermione drawled, stepping into view.

 

For the briefest moment, Draco's face was completely unguarded: surprise, guilt, annoyance. Then the mask slid back into place, and he nodded cordially.

 

“I'm surprised to see you, Hermione. Welcome. Can I get you a drink?”

 

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

 

He gestured to the sofa and bade her sit. “Gorky,” he called.

 

With a sharp crack, the little elf appeared, bowing to Draco. The sack he wore was new and clean, almost creaseless as if it had been pressed. He stared up at Draco with a large smile on his face. “Master Draco called?”

 

“My sister is here for tea. If you would be so kind?”

 

“At once, Master.” Gorky turned to Hermione and bowed deeply. “Gorky is delighted to serve Mistress again.”

 

Hermione smiled and nodded politely. “Thank you, Gorky. I'm glad to see you looking better. Is my brother taking it easy on you? Not working you too hard?”

 

“Yes, Mistress,” Gorky said. “Master Draco is a good Master.”

 

“And your wound?”

 

“Much better, Mistress. Master Draco has prepared many potions for Gorky. There is no pain any more.”

 

“Good,” Hermione said brightly, “I would love for you to join me, while Master Draco makes us tea. Please, sit.” She gestured to the sofa opposite.

 

Draco and Gorky goggled at her.

 

“Excuse me?” Draco was incredulous.

 

“M-m-mistress?” Gorky stammered.

 

“I'm sure Gorky would rather make the tea,” Draco said, waving at the elf.

 

Hermione held up a hand, stopping Gorky from vanishing. “No,” she said simply. “I would prefer Gorky to sit with me and talk.”

 

His eyes wide, Gorky stepped forward and perched on the edge of the sofa.

 

Draco stood to one side, arms folded, a small smile on his lips.

 

“Something amuses you, Draco?” Hermione said, leaning back, grinning.

 

“No, no,” he demurred. “You have adequately shown yourself to have authority above mine.”

 

Hermione's smile became triumphant as she waved at him. “Well then, tea for all of us then, if you please, Mister Malfoy. How do you take your tea, Gorky?” She paused, seeing the little elf was almost jiggling on the seat, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Are you okay, Gorky?”

 

“Gorky is sorry, Mistress!” the little elf suddenly wailed. “Gorky does not wish to displease Mistress, but Gorky would very much prefer to make the tea!” He stopped abruptly, stuffing his hands in his mouth. “Gorky will punish himself immediately for speaking out of turn,” he mumbled around his fingers.

 

“No!” Hermione cried. “No, please there's no need for that!” She stopped, refusing to look at Draco, who was chuckling to himself. “I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Gorky. It was certainly not my intent.”

 

“Gorky knows, Mistress, and he is happy that you wished to speak with him… but Gorky would very much prefer to serve…” His voice became quieter and quieter as he spoke, his eyes fixed on her shoes.

 

She sighed, glaring at Draco, who grinned at her, unrepentant. “Very well, Gorky. Please, could you prepare Master Draco and I some tea? And please have some yourself when you are done.”

 

“Right away, Mistress!” Gorky leapt into the air, vanishing before his feet hit the floor.

 

Hermione slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, huffing in annoyance. “Go on then, say it,” she groused, as Draco lounged on the sofa opposite.

 

“You're a stubborn cow, who won't let go of an idea, despite all evidence to the contrary that it's a lost cause.”

 

Hermione sniffed and turned her nose up. “Charming!”

 

“You know as well as I do that house-elves will never feel comfortable unless they are serving someone. All your efforts to prove otherwise keep blowing up in your face, so please, for Gorky's sanity if nothing else, desist!”

 

“I was just trying…”

 

“I know what you were trying, Hermione, and it worked. You have more authority over Gorky than I do. You are the heir of this house in more than name, and I shouldn't have tried to make it seem a smaller thing than it is. Pansy has been teaching you things hasn't she?”

 

“She merely wanted me to ensure you knew your place,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. Her expression clouded over then, and she frowned. “Sorry, Draco, this isn't me at all! I hate acting like a stuck up cow.”

 

“Could have fooled me,” he smirked. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself just then.”

 

“Oh, shush! Look I don't quite know what to do about this,” she waved vaguely between them. “I'm not a high born aristocrat, born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I don't understand all the etiquette yet, and the last thing I want is to embarrass Theo, or you, or even Pansy! I  _ hate _ not knowing things.”

 

“You'll learn,” Draco said, as Gorky reappeared laden with a large tray filled with an urn of hot water, two teapots, cups and saucers, and several plates of finger sandwiches and cakes.

 

While the elf fussed over them both, pouring the tea and making sure they were both comfortable, Hermione scrutinised Draco, trying to work out his angle. Finally satisfied, Gorky left them to it after promising Hermione that he would have a cup of tea in the kitchen.

 

“The thing is,” Hermione muttered, “I'm not sure I  _ want _ to learn.”

 

“That's a first,” Draco said, taking a sandwich and taking a delicate bite.

 

“Oh, alright… of course, I want to learn, but I don't think I fit into that…  _ your _ world.”

 

“Of course you do,” he said, “you're a Malfoy now. Political manoeuvring and obtaining favours is what we do! You want to try and help the house-elves? Moving in the upper society is the place to start.”

 

“You think I could do something to help them?”

 

“Not in the way you want, maybe. But I have no doubt you could make their lives better, their working conditions and treatment and so on.”

 

“I  _ am _ looking at moving into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures… Would you be willing to help me?”

 

“Don't push it, sister. You may be blood now, but I have more important things to use my influence on than getting better quality bedding for the servants.”

 

“Fine, I guess I can do this by myself if I have to.” She picked up her teacup, frowning at him over the rim as she took a sip. “So, what has you so moody, anyway? You looked… vexed when I arrived.”

 

“Nothing in particular,” he said dismissively, finishing his sandwich. “Just the usual things; work, colleagues, the fact that if I had helped you when you asked we may have found Theo weeks earlier and brought Pucey down before things went the way they did. If I had listened to you the first time you contacted me, maybe you wouldn’t have...”

 

“Stop!” she said forcefully. “It wouldn’t have changed… that.” Blinking away the sudden tears in her eyes she took a deep breath to steady herself.  _ Honestly, woman, it’s been nine months! Pull yourself together! _

 

“You can’t know that, Hermione.”

 

“I’ve been through this with Pansy already.  _ She  _ was convinced that it was  _ her _ fault! Theo and I have been over and over it with St Mungo’s, and our grief counsellor. They believe that… what happened was inevitable by that point. The stress I was under, the fact that I Apparated whilst pregnant… all of it contributed to the…” Blowing out her cheeks she made herself continue, delicately dabbing at her eyes with the back of a finger. “It all contributed to the miscarriage. I left you a note the day before. There is no doubt in my mind that it would still have happened, even if you had contacted me the same night!”

 

“I don’t say it often, as I’m sure Theo can attest… But I am sorry.”

 

“Draco…”

 

“No, I'm sorry,” he said, sitting forward and staring at her earnestly. “Truly, Hermione. I should have listened to you when I had the chance. When I realised what you had done to try and find Theo, I finally appreciated how unexpectedly determined you were. I mean you, Hermione Granger... You bought books from a hag in Knockturn Alley.  _ Illegal _ books!  _ Four _ of them!”

 

“Yes, okay,” she said, blushing, “let's not make too much of that fact, please! Remember you've been reinstated now.”

 

He waved that away. “I'm not going to turn my sister in, especially when she shows she has what it takes to succeed in a perfectly Slytherin way. Nothing was going to stop you, and that impressed me greatly. I was a terrible shit to you because I was jealous of your relationship with Theo, and I want to clear the air completely.”

 

“Well, thank you, that means a lot.”

 

“Don't mention it,” he said, then grinned. “Seriously, don’t tell Theo I apologised this much! He’ll never let me live it down.”

 

They chatted amiably with each, probably more so than they had in the entirety of their lives. Hermione was amazed at this at first but slowly came to realise what it was she was feeling; there was a strange new familial love for the annoying, sarcastic man sat opposite. It was little more than the germ of an idea, an almost imperceptible imperative to care about him and his wellbeing. She wondered if his newfound friendliness was born of the same thing.

 

“So,” he said, trying to stop himself from laughing, “we're stood there, Roberts and I, trying to hold onto this scrawny little kid that's been shoplifting from this apothecary shop in the arse end of Cornwall. He's trying to tell us we've got the wrong guy, even though we've already gone through his pockets and found half a dozen ingredients, a set of scales, and a size two cauldron, shrunk down so he could fit it in there!”

 

“He didn't try to tell you it was his twin brother, did he?”

 

“Better!” Draco said with a grin. “Claims that the real culprit had attacked him in an alley, pulled some of his hair out, and used it in a Polyjuice Potion!”

 

Hermione sniggered. “That's a new one!”

 

“I know! No one's tried that one on me before,” Draco said, shaking his head in wonder.

 

“I guess he doesn't realise how long it takes to brew that particular potion?”

 

“Was news to him. When Darryl told him and asked him why someone would spend weeks brewing a potion, just to knock over an Apothecary, he stuttered for a bit, then claimed that it was a  common problem around these parts and that us ‘big city boys wouldn't know about it.’”

 

Hermione laughed as she poured each of them a fresh cup of tea.

 

Draco continued after thanking her and taking a sip. “Now, Darryl starts trying to give him the speech about how 'crime doesn't pay’ and the kid just looks at him says, without batting an eye…” Draco adopted a thick West Country accent. “'I made fifteen Galleons yesterday, just flogging shit I knocked off from a street vendor.’”

 

“Oh yes,” laughed Hermione, “you got the wrong guy there!”

 

“That's the thing with Darryl,” Draco continued chuckling to himself, “he'll always try to talk to the criminal like there's a hope of reforming them there and then on the street!” He shook his head, wonderingly, looking into the crackling fire. He seemed to almost forget that Hermione was there. “His heart's pure I think, not a bad bone in his body. He's going to go far in this world as long, as the world doesn't knock it out of him.

 

“I hope it doesn't, that he finds some man that can make him happy and keep him centred… can talk him round when he feels down. I just want to keep him safe, because purity like that has a way of getting used and corrupted, and I would hate for that to happen to him.

 

“Theo did his best, a couple of months ago; followed me to Camden and cornered me. He brought Darryl with him, tried to set us up together… I don't think it went as either of them planned… I may have acted a little badly towards him.

 

“It's the age difference. For some people it's not a big deal, especially in pureblood circles; marriages between men and women of wildly different ages are commonplace.”

 

Hermione sat, silent, rigid in her seat almost. Her cup had been raised to her lips when Draco had started talking, and she hadn't moved: too afraid to break the moment she had frozen, the cup raised, her eyes flicking back and forth in wonder at the secrets spilling out of the normally reserved man in front of her.

 

“Sometimes,” Draco continued, oblivious to her wondering gaze, “I wonder if it's just infatuation. Theo was someone I knew I loved, for years, probably since before Hogwarts. I had plenty of time to really examine those feelings, understand them… But with Darryl? I've only known him for a couple of years. Nowhere near enough time to really understand what it is I'm feeling! Maybe it's a rebound obsession or something. I know I won't be with Theo, and as more time goes on I can accept that, but then is it too soon to set my sights on someone else? Would it have mattered who it was, when all is said and done? Another man came along that was funny, smart, bloody beautiful… and I just sort of…” He waved his hands vaguely. “Latched onto him almost?

 

“I don't want to go for it if it is just that… That in five, six months, I'll throw him away like I have many others in the past. It wouldn’t be fair on him. And how do I be with someone publicly like that? Not his blood, not the colour of his skin… How do I admit to the world, after all these years that not only am I gay, I’m in love with a bloody co-worker who is  _ so _ much younger than me? It’s almost obscene...”

 

A log in the fire abruptly split, and there was a loud crack, a shower of sparks rushing upwards. The pair of them started and Draco blinked rapidly, staring at Hermione in horror. His face flushed as he stammered something.

 

“Draco,” Hermione said, putting her teacup down.

 

“What did you do to me?” he said, anger starting to show in his eyes.

 

She bristled at that. “Do? Nothing! Don't be dense, brother. I didn't have to  _ do _ anything! You volunteered the secrets of your heart all by yourself. It’s not  _ my _ fault your conscience finally chose today to show itself!”

 

He swore, standing rapidly and pacing about. “You can't tell anyone about this! I'll tell them you drugged me, deny everything!”

 

She scoffed. “Oh, stop being so fucking melodramatic, Malfoy!”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“You heard!” she snapped. “Now sit! As your sister, I find myself duty-bound to help you with this. And you are are going to  _ let _ me help you, or I swear I will cut off your access to the vaults!”

 

Draco dropped onto the sofa with a sigh, covering his face with one hand. “You know what I need right now?” he said.

 

“Years of intense therapy due to your upbringing and lack of morality as a young boy, but we don’t have time for that.”

 

Draco looked at her smug expression, his mouth open in shock. “I was going to say 'a drink’. Fucking hell, Hermione.”

 

“Now then,” Hermione said primly, ignoring him, “I think, for starters, we will indeed need something a bit stronger than tea… This is going to take some time.”

 

~~~

 

Going shopping for dinner supplies would have been a much easier job than what he had really come to Diagon Alley for. He wasn't even sure he would get exactly what he wanted here, but a trip into muggle London would probably finish him off. The Alley was busy even at this time of day, and he imagined the Muggle side would be worse.

 

A sliver of fear sliced through him, and he held onto the stone wall to keep himself upright as his legs trembled; the last time he had been here alone was the day Shiftly blindsided him. This was his main purpose in being here today, something Justin told him he had to do; confronting a fear, coming to a place where a trauma occurred, doing it alone.

 

_ I can do this _ .

 

He had been putting it off for weeks. He knew that their story was long forgotten news now in reality, and he pushed away from the wall, making his way through the bustle of people, he began to relax. No one paid him the slightest bit of attention.

 

He liked being almost anonymous again. He didn't miss the days where he courted the media on any level. A couple of people recognised him, but they were co-workers, loose acquaintances. All he got from them was a friendly nod.

 

He turned his mind and feet to his other purpose. Whilst Hermione visited dear Draco, Theo was going to find a ring. An engagement ring to be precise.

 

He had no idea what he was looking for. He had debated bringing Blaise, but other than Justin's orders to go alone, he also didn't want Ginny catching wind of his plans. He wanted to wait for the right moment and didn't want to feel pressured. 

 

He quickly realised that there was a grand total of one jeweller in Diagon Alley, and he was worried he might not find what he wanted. It was a starting point if nothing else, he mused.

 

He entered through the shop door, and a pretty, young witch greeted him.

 

“Hello, sir! How can I help?”

 

“Hi, I'm looking for an engagement ring.”

 

“Ooh lovely,” she said, gliding across to another counter. “Here, these are all of our betrothal bands. Were you looking for a particular stone or cut? Baguette, cushion, oval?” She reeled off a plethora of names and then stones he could consider. He looked at her blankly until she finished. 

 

“I'm really not sure what I want, I'm just looking for something... special. Can I just have a look?”

 

“Of course,” she chuckled. “Sometimes people come in with instructions!” 

 

“Ah,” he smiled, “no, definitely no instructions. I just think I will know when I see it.”

 

“Well, take your time, and let me know if you want to see anything up close.” She left him to it and walked off.

 

He moved closer to the cabinet and was struck by the reflected sparkle he was subjected to.

 

There were gold bands, silver bands, bands peppered with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds. There were massive rocks attached to some, and others tiny and subtle. He looked at everything, and yet nothing jumped out at him; he liked a cut, or a stone, and yet couldn't quite find the right mixture of both.

 

Frustrated, he apologised to the sales witch and took his leave, wondering what his next move could be. He wandered aimlessly down Diagon Alley and was so distracted he didn't spot the old man until he had walked right into him.

 

“Oof! Oh, I'm so sorry, Mister Ollivander!” 

 

“Not to worry, Mister Nott,” the old man replied, steadying himself against Theo’s shoulder. “You look well. I am pleased to see it.”

 

“Thank you, and thank you for your help over Christmas. You were not wrong.”

 

“Old I might be, but we oldies have a habit of having time and knowledge on our side. Your new wand is treating you well?”

 

“Very well, sir, and Hermione’s was repaired by it.”

 

“I like her,” the old man said with a smile. “I'm glad you two found each other and have worked it out.”

 

“Me too!” Theo smiled. “In fact, I'm making sure it becomes more permanent as we speak, but I think muggle London might be calling me.”

 

“Anything worth doing is indeed worth that extra struggle,” the old man smiled before bidding Theo a good day. “Good luck, Mister Nott.”

 

As suddenly as he had arrived, he disappeared again into the crowd. 

 

Theo smiled, pondering the old man’s words, before turning his feet towards the Leaky Cauldron. With only the briefest pause on the doorstep, he descended upon Muggle London.

 

~~~

 

Two hours later, he was starting to get frustrated. He found five shops, with the help of a variety of Muggles who he had stopped and asked. Not one of them had flinched at his scars, and this filled him with a new found confidence. In none of those shops, however, had he found what he wanted.

 

He was time watching, as he would need to be heading back soon, to meet Hermione and actually cook that dinner before Robert and Jean arrived. He couldn't be late as she would worry. Wouldn't do to upset the soon to be in-laws either!

 

He was heading back towards a safe Apparition point, frustrated by his defeat when he saw a small jeweller down a side street. “Last one,” he muttered to himself.

 

A quick glance in the window, and he saw the one.

 

It sat centre stage in the window, and it drew the eye. Anything sat around it was disadvantaged by its beauty. 

 

Its Slytherin green gemstone was shaped like a teardrop, the silver band thin and delicate, and it had markings down the side that looked like runes. 

 

He needed to see it closer. 

 

As he stepped into the shop, a small older man appeared from the back. He was almost a doppelganger of Ollivander, and for a moment he thought a trick was being played on him.

 

The old man stared at him quizzically and greeted him in a thick Scottish accent. “Good afternoon, young man. How can I help you?”

 

Shaking his head and the likeness out of his mind, Theo asked if he could see the ring from the window.

 

It was just as beautiful up close, and Theo decided it represented everything he wanted it too. Their pain of the last year in the tear, as well as the brightness of their future in its gleam and stature; his house, and her likeness to it at times, in the colour. Most of all, though, it was the rune-like markings and their meaning. As soon as he had seen them closer, he knew this ring was special.

 

The jeweller explained that this ring was an antique, yet looked as new as all his others. Neither he, nor any of his friends or colleagues could decipher the runes, yet everyone was drawn to it.

 

“A wee mystery, indeed, but who am I to try and figure it out? Course, they all walk away when they hear the price.”

 

“I'll take it,” Theo said, knowing the price was irrelevant.

 

The man was surprised, but happily took the ring off the little cushion, and began to package it up.

 

It was at that point that Theo realised his error: he didn't have any Muggle money. 

 

“That'll be £10,000, sir.”

 

He could tell the old man was watching him to see if he would faint. “No problem,” Theo said as casually as he could, “however, it appears I may need to come back with more money.”

 

“No card?” the man asked, a slight smile on his face. “We do accept Galleons here, Mister Nott.” The old man winked at Theo's shocked expression. “Miss Granger is a lucky witch.” 

 

Ten minutes later, and many galleons lighter, Theo left for the Apparition point, the ring secure in his pocket, knowing Hermione would love it. He couldn't wait for her to work out what the runes meant.

 

Now he just needed to find the right moment to ask her to be his wife!

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Mr Benzedrine for the awesome clap back Hermione gives Draco ;)


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 6

“Okay, deep breaths, in and out.”

 

Closing her eyes, she filled her lungs as much as she could, letting it out in a controlled stream.

 

“You know what to expect, so just keep your eyes closed and focus on your breathing. I love you, Mina.”

 

Hermione nodded rapidly, just breathing deeply and evenly, trying not to think.  _ Third time’s the charm, _ she thought to herself, remembering the two previous incarnations of Theo’s formula.

 

The burning sensation, starting at her groin, cut off any more coherent thought. A mewling whine accompanied her breathing now, eyes screwed tighter.

 

_ Breathing… just breathe, Hermione, _ she whispered in her head, feeling the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

 

The first spell settled into her skin, feeling like a branding iron, and she couldn’t stop the cry of pain. Theo held onto her hand, and she could almost see his bowed head and agonised expression.

 

“You couldn't have made it tickle?” she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut tighter.

 

“I tried,” Theo whispered with a tight grin, “but then I worried you would kick the Healers in the face.”

 

“Very wise,” she said, her voice lifting as the second spell worked its way through her abdomen. “My god! That stings,” she cried, writhing a little against the restraints.

 

“Not long to go, dear,” Alyssia said with a happy titter, poking her head up from between Hermione's legs. “Healer Merton, could you lift the light a little? Perfect, thank you. Healer Sharpe, if you could just control that second spell a little more steadily, there's a good lad; you're in danger of veering off towards the poor dear’s kidney!” Alyssia giggled at the thought.

 

“There are far too many people staring up my fanny!” Hermione hissed, trying to laugh through the pain. “I'm glad my parents waited outside!”

 

The third and final spell sank deep into Hermione's womb, filling her body with fiery pain, and all coherent thought left her.

 

“Try to relax, dear,” Alyssia murmured, unfazed by the swearing that greeted this suggestion. “We're going to remove the last of the curse now. This will let you feel the pain you should have felt before. Nasty little thing has been waiting for this moment, storing it all up so it can try to overwhelm you and send you off. Try not to do that, okay?”

 

Five agonised minutes passed, and Hermione counted all three hundred seconds, breathing slowly and evenly. Theo wiped her brow with a cool cloth, whispering encouragement in her ear.

 

The moment the pain stopped, Hermione gave a sob of relief, burying her face in Theo's shoulder as he hugged her close, kissing her hair repeatedly.

 

“Well done, darling, you were amazing,” he said fiercely.

 

“And just think,” Allysia piped up, brightly, “if all goes well, childbirth will be a cinch after that!”

 

~~~

 

“I don't see why we couldn't just Apparate straight there,” Pansy groused, stepping delicately in her powder blue slingback pumps. The leafy mulch underfoot clung to them, and she gave a moan of disgust. “This is ruining my new shoes!”

 

“I did say you should wear something more appropriate to walking,” Hermione said with a grin, pushing aside a tree branch and letting Theo, Harry, and Pansy pass. “Besides, you could always use a Scourgify charm when we get to the top.”

 

“I’m not using a Scourgify on these!” Pansy almost shrieked, mouth open in shock. “Do you realise how much damage that would cause? I wasn't expecting to be traipsing through a forest. I was promised stunning views of the coast, and the perfect picnic site!”

 

“And you'll have it,” Hermione said, patting her on the shoulder. “But it's quite a popular tourist site for Muggles, as well as energetic octogenarians, so appearing on top of the hill in the middle of a pack of old folk would be a potential health hazard. Not to mention a terrible breach of the Statute of Secrecy!”

 

She pulled ahead of her, heading forward to lead the way once more, hearing Pansy grumbling under her breath about nature. What she was complaining about was really nothing, especially as the men were, at their insistence, loaded down with all the picnic things. All she had was her clutch, its colour matching her shoes, less the mulch.

 

“Here's the treeline, Mina,” Theo said, stepping out into the bright, warm sunshine. June was proving to be the perfect summer month. He came to a halt abruptly. “Now  _ that's _ a hill,” he breathed, staring ahead, placing the wicker basket on the grass beside him.

 

Hermione joined him, glancing back at Harry and Pansy as they brought up the rear.

 

She looked upwards, taking in the little line of trees that ringed the slope, halfway up. It made a perfect stopping point on the journey, being undercover and out of the sun. Tiny little figures could be seen marching upwards, heading for the summit; it looked fairly quiet from down here.

 

“I'll confess,” Hermione said, taking Theo's hand and giving it a squeeze, “Golden Cap is a lot larger than I remembered.”

 

“Sweetheart, it's the highest point on the south coast.” Theo laughed and hugged her. “Wait for it…”

 

Together they slowly looked around, seeing Pansy struggle past the last of the foliage. She stopped, plucking a twig from her hair, and stared upwards. And upwards some more. They could see the moment she realised that the tiny moving things on the slope were people; her eyes widened, whites showing all around.

 

“Fuck that!” she gasped.

 

“Wow,” said Harry with a grin, “the view’s going to be incredible from up there!”

 

Pansy goggled at him. “Are you insane, Potter!?” she shrieked. “I can’t walk up there in these!” She pointed to her shoes, the heels already starting to sink into the soft grass.

 

“Only one thing for it then,” Harry declared, grabbing Pansy and lifting her onto his shoulder. “Last one to the top’s a rotten egg!”

 

Theo and Hermione watched as Harry ran away from them, staggering up the hill with Pansy over his shoulder shrieking and laughing, the wicker picnic basket held out to one side for balance.

 

“He’s never going to make it,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

 

“Well, I’m not going to let Potter beat me without a fight!”

 

“What? Theo, no!” she shouted as he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder.

 

As she screamed with laughter, he scooped the other basket up and started to run as fast as he could manage. “Think light thoughts, Mina!” he gasped, his legs already tiring.

 

The field sloped gently upwards towards the trees. Although the incline was slight Theo noticed how the trees didn't seem to be getting any closer. Harry stumbled then, Pansy falling to the grass with a scream. Encouraged, Theo pulled a little more from his reserves and kept going, slowly catching the pair up.

 

Pansy saw them first and started pulling Harry to his feet. The man's face was glistening, the back of his white t-shirt damp with sweat, but resolutely he grabbed the basket as Pansy leapt onto his back, pointing up the hill and yelling encouragement. He managed a slow but steady pace and Theo, desperately trying to maintain his speed, drew level and then past him.

 

He couldn't spare the breath to laugh as Pansy started spanking Harry on the buttocks, trying to urge more speed from him. “Come on,” she yelled. “You’re a bloody Auror! You’re supposed to be fit and in shape; Nott’s a researcher, for Merlin’s sake!”

 

Hermione twisted to look, but the motion pulled Theo off balance, and he tripped, the pair of them falling to the grass. Giggling, Hermione pulled at Theo's arm, trying to get him standing again. “Come on! They're going to beat us!”

 

“Let him win,” Theo gasped, “I'm done in!”

 

“That's not the fighting spirit, young man!” she urged, pulling harder.

 

“Okay,” he said, rolling onto his front and pushing himself up.

 

Hermione picked up the basket as Harry puffed past them, Pansy grinning at them astride his back. “Giddy-up!” she shouted.

 

Theo stepped forward and hopped, throwing himself at Hermione's back. “Okay, go! You carry me.”

 

With a cackling laugh, Hermione set off, one very slow step at a time. “I can't!” she cried as Theo slipped.

 

“Right, head for the top,” he said, drawing in lungfuls of air. “I'll give you a headstart.”

 

Harry was only a few steps ahead when Theo dashed forward and grabbed his ankle. Harry and Pansy tumbled to the floor with a shout.

 

“Go, Hermione!” Theo shouted dramatically. “Win it for both of us!”

 

With a laugh, Hermione set off as fast as she could up the slope. It got steeper as she approached the first line of trees, seeing the path that led through to the next field. There were two benches set on either side of the path, the trees forming a canopy over the trail and creating a cool and inviting space to rest.

 

Suddenly she fell face first to the ground; someone had grabbed her shoulder and pushed!

 

Barefoot, breathless, and cackling maniacally, Pansy staggered past her, reaching the trees first. With a cry of triumph, she collapsed to the ground, panting.

 

Hermione looked back down the hill to see Theo and Harry walking slowly towards them, arms round each other, red-faced and puffing. With a last push, Hermione reached the trees, sinking down at Pansy's side.

 

“Okay, that was a bad idea,” she wheezed.

 

Pansy was too tired to reply, simply nodding. After a minute she pushed Hermione gently. “Still beat you though.”

 

“We're only halfway, Pans.”

 

Pansy glanced uphill. “Oh, bugger. I lost my shoes in our first tumble. I hope no one takes them; they’re Louis Vuitton, you know? Very expensive.”

 

“I'm sure they are,” Hermione laughed.

 

It took them a further half an hour to reach the top, having to stop several times to rest. When they finally crested the final peak and saw the view even Pansy had to admit that it was all worth it.

 

The Jurassic coastline of Dorset spread away to the east and west, waves crashing against sandy beaches and cliffs. Sea birds dove and wheeled above and below, their cries rising above the sound of the waves far below. The sea breeze was warm and carried the scent of the ocean as the vast expanse of the English Channel stretched endlessly to the south.

 

Pansy stood near the edge, barefoot, arms outstretched, and breathed deeply. “You know, I've never been to a place like this. Never stood on a clifftop and watched the ocean. It’s incredible!”

 

“Just be careful over there,” Harry called as he and Hermione unpacked the picnic. Theo laid out the blanket on a large patch of soft, green grass, off to one side and away from the main viewing area, and then helped to set everything up.

 

Soon they were tucking into finger sandwiches, crisp green salad, scotch eggs, sausage rolls, as well as a selection of olives, sun-dried tomatoes, crisps, and several different dips. It was a large feast for four, but Algie had insisted on there being enough for all of them to eat well. There was even a black forest gateau!

 

Hermione sniggered. “We only need a dog and some ginger beer, and we can go on an adventure!” The others stared at her in confusion, and she flushed, mumbling, “Nevermind…”

 

Muggles came and went as the friends ate, and if any of them wondered about their conversation about elves, and auras, they were polite enough to ignore it. Their chat soon turned to Theo’s breakthrough and development of the healing spells, Hermione's subsequent operation a few weeks back, and Theo and Hermione's counselling sessions.

 

“I was so sore for about a week, going to the toilet almost made me cry!” Hermione said with a laugh.

 

“She laughs now,” Theo said with a grin, “but it was a tough few days.”

 

“And?” Harry asked. “Good news, bad news?”

 

“Bit of both,” Theo said with a shrug.

 

“We had our last assessment earlier this week, and they don’t think it’s going to get any better than it is. An increase of twenty percent viability,” Hermione said.

 

“That’s good though, right?” Pansy asked, reaching out and placing her hand over Hermione’s.

 

“Yes, it's much better than we had,” Theo said, “but it only gives us a thirty percent chance overall that any ovulation will have a viable egg. Then there’s the miscarriage risk, which has increased slightly.”

 

“And with my periods being completely unpredictable…”

 

“So,” Pansy said, nudging Hermione with a wicked grin, “lots of time with your legs in the air then?”

 

“Pansy!” she gasped, flushing slightly.

 

“Or on her knees,” Theo said with a grin.

 

“THEO!?” Hermione shrieked, slapping his arm, her face completely red now.

 

“Wow,” laughed Harry, as Pansy fell back on the grass, cackling. “You’ve come out of your shell, mate!”

 

Theo shrugged. “After everything we’ve been through? Being embarrassed or reticent about my personal life, especially amongst good friends, seems more ridiculous than ever.”

 

“Well, cheers to that,” Harry said, saluting Theo with his drink. “How’s the counselling going?” 

 

“I've not had a panic attack for almost three months now,” Theo said, as Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder.

 

“That's great news,” Harry said. “I've managed to avoid panic attacks too, even when I see how much Pansy's spending on shoes each month!”

 

“A girl can never have too many shoes,” Pansy said primly, then smiled warmly at Harry.

 

Hermione and Theo exchanged a look and grinned.

 

“So,” said Theo, “when are you two going to admit that you're desperately in love with each other, and stop all this 'it’s only a fling’ nonsense?”

 

Hermione choked on her drink and stared at him in shock. Pansy froze, eyes wide. The colour drained from Harry's face. There was no sound except for the wind for a moment; even the sea birds seemed to hold their breath.

 

“E-excuse me?” Pansy said at last, her voice quavering.

 

“Theo,” stammered Harry, “you know as well as I… I mean, Pansy and me… we're… well, you know…”

 

They stared at each, almost seeming to truly notice and understand something for the first time.

 

Abruptly, they both stood and walked quickly in opposite directions. Harry vanished around the corner, downslope a little way, while Pansy stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out to sea again.

 

“Theo!” Hermione whispered.

 

“What?” he exclaimed. “Someone had to say something, Hermione! It’s been two years! Surely they  _ know _ what they're doing is more serious than a fling?”

 

“But what if it  _ is _ just a fling to them, just one that’s still fun! We may joke about it, but we shouldn’t interfere. This might make them split up when they realise that they're all but committed to each other!” She scowled and stood. “Go and talk to Harry. Quickly, before he Apparates back to London, or something else equally ridiculous; I'll talk to Pansy.”

 

“Mina...”

 

Hermione didn't look at him, simply shooed him away as he stood, already moving towards Pansy. He watched as she put her arm around the dark-haired woman, pulling her close.

 

With a sigh, he turned and started to walk back down the path. He didn’t have to go far, and quickly found Harry on the bench set to the side of the path, presumably a final resting spot before the top. The man had his head in his hands, muttering to himself.

 

Shaking his head, Theo sat down at his side. “You okay, Harry?”

 

“This is a disaster,” came the reply.

 

“Come on, don't exaggerate!”

 

“It was supposed to be a bit of fun, no commitment. We've been together for two years, and the thought of not being with her hurts.” He looked at Theo, his eyes wide. “Like, physically painful!”

 

“You love her,” Theo said, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. “It'll sneak up on you if you let it. And you did. Were the last two years of fun so bad?”

 

“No, they've been amazing.”

 

“So what's the problem?”

  
"Well... it's just... Pansy said, right from the start, that she's not into commitment. And I said the same."

 

“Things change. You found that you enjoyed being with each other more than you expected, and that actually committing to one person isn't so bad, right?”

 

"Oh God!” Harry cried, dropping his head into his hands again. “What have I done!"   
  


"Harry, calm down..."   
  


"I'm in a committed relationship! The party is over!"

  
"Harry, relax... you can still party! You  _ have _ partied, regularly. It's just that you go home with the same girl that you arrived with..."

  
"Life's going to be so boring!"

 

Theo frowned, cuffing Harry on the side of the head.

 

“Ow! What was that for?”

 

“You're being ridiculous. I assure you, monogamy doesn't have to be boring! Look at Mina and me? We've had a very exciting couple of years.” He grinned at Harry's shocked face. “Yes, I can joke about it now, though I didn't know if we'd ever reach that point. Look, you've made monogamy fun for the last couple of years, right? Outside all of the work stuff, the time you spent together has been enjoyable?”

 

“Well, yeah, but that's not the normal domestic stuff…”

 

“You visit family and friends, you have relaxing days, you spend as much time as you can together? I'm guessing there are days and nights that you  _ don't  _ just meet up to have sex?”

 

“Of course!” Harry said. “We're not rabbits, you know?”

 

“Has she stayed with you, or vice versa, on those occasions? Slept, literally just slept, in the same bed? Happily?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Face it, Potter, you're both in a committed, monogamous relationship, and you're loving every second of it! You're even commenting on her spending habits.”

 

“We're looking at buying a place somewhere nearer London…”

 

Theo waited while Harry processed all of this, a smirk on his face.

 

“I'm in love with Pansy Parkinson.” Harry's voice was filled with wonder, and it made Theo laugh at how surreal this whole experience had been.

 

“First time you've said that out loud?”

 

“Yeah… I like the sound of it.”

 

Theo clapped him on the back and stood. “Come on then. Let's go, you can tell her yourself.”

 

Theo led the way back up the hill when Harry grabbed his sleeve and held him back. “What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if she's freaking out because I've tied her down, and now she wants to stop seeing me?”

 

“You'd have known about it long before now if that was the case, Harry. There's no way Pansy would have let you talk to her the way you have been unless she loved you. Purebloods may try and keep everything hidden behind an air of snobbish pride, but we can also read each other fairly well.” Theo grinned. “Pansy already knows what colour she wants her bridesmaids to wear, I'd stake everything I have on it!”

 

As they came in sight of the summit again, they saw Pansy and Hermione stood at the edge of the viewing area, arms around each other. Hermione was patting Pansy on the back. It looked like Pansy was crying.

 

Instantly Harry strode forward, eyes filled with worry. Seeing him coming Hermione stepped away, Pansy lifting a hand to her mouth and looking across the bay again.

 

Theo joined Hermione at a distance as the couple met on the clifftop. Theo draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “He's utterly besotted with her,” he whispered.

 

Hermione smiled and squeezed him tightly. “She's the same. She's terrified he's about to break up with her.”

 

“I think we're about to see that's not the case.”

 

They watched for a moment, before turning away as Pansy suddenly spun in Harry's arms and planted a heated kiss on his mouth. Giving them their privacy, Theo and Hermione took a slow stroll around the edge of the hill.

 

Harry and Pansy were still locked together when they looked, half an hour later.

 

“Maybe we’ll just… um…” Hermine murmured.

 

“Yeah,” Theo said, turning around and pulling Hermione with him, “we’ll just go... see some more of the coast…”

 

~~~

 

Theo glanced up from his book as Hermione stood and stretched, gazing appreciatively at the skin of her belly as her shirt rode up her body a little. It never failed to stir his loins, and the familiar heat made him grin.

 

Hermione scratched her head, yawning widely and Theo was sure he heard her jaw crack. She started to move away, heading for the stairs.

 

"You heading to bed, darling?" he asked, seeing her nod, the yawn still muting her. "Mind if I Slytherin?"

 

The click of her teeth snapping together made him grin, as did the unladylike snort of laughter that burst from her as she turned to face him.

 

"Theodore Nott," she said with a grin, "you did not just use that awful line on your girlfriend, did you?"

 

His smile was wolfish as he swung his legs around, tucking them underneath himself and lifting himself higher. "Oh, come now, Mina," he implored, dramatically, "my love burns for you like a dying phoenix! If you were a Dementor, I'd become a criminal, just for your kiss!"

 

The witch tried to stifle a snigger behind her hand. "Have you been talking to George and Ron about their new Christmas cracker jokes?"

 

Theo began to walk forwards on his knees, arms lifting towards her. "Darling," he called, "I know we're not in Flitwick's class, but still you are charming me!"

 

"Theo," she laughed, backing away from him and fending off his grasping hands. "Pack it in, you nutter!"

 

"Are you using a Confundus charm on me, or are you naturally mind-blowing?"

 

"Oh, that one was feeble!" She was starting to back up the stairs now, still giggling at Theo's earnest smile and wide eyes. His attention, despite the awful lines, was starting to turn her on.

 

"My dear Hermione, please make magic with me! My wand is at the ready!"

 

"Okay, now you're just being crude..." she began, her crotch burning at the more direct line, even as Theo grasped one of her ankles, slowing her down.

 

"Hagrid wasn't the only giant on campus if you get my meaning?" he said with a leer.

 

"Now you're exaggerating, mister!"

 

"I want to get my basilisk into your chamber of secrets!"

 

"Theo!" she laughed, calling him on with her eyes. She swiftly kicked off her slippers, backing up the stairs again, faster now. The laughter was bubbling up in her, louder now, and Theo came up the stairs quicker.

 

"Come on! They'll be calling you Moaning Myrtle after a night with me!" he yelled as she turned and ran down the corridor, shrieking with laughter, pulling off her shirt as she went. "You don't need to cast Wingardium Leviosa to get me up!”

 

Hermione vanished into the bedroom, and Theo ran after her, naked, his clothes already abandoned in the corridor.

 

"You must have been drinking Felix Felicis, Hermione, because you're about to get lucky!" he said, diving onto the bed with her and pulling the covers over them both.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thank you to the internet at large for the litany of God awful one-liners Theo just spouted...


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 8

Hermione looked around a table, filled to bursting with the people she loved. Luna had chosen to sit at the kids’ table so the parents could enjoy themselves without worrying about them; she was keeping them entertained with all sorts of random stories about dragons and strange creatures, and they were hanging on her every word with wide eyes and rapt expressions.

 

Hermione noticed Charlie looking at her with a fond expression, and guessed all was well in their private world. Luna had relocated to Romania to be with Charlie earlier this year, and this had been her first visit home since. 

 

A lot had changed in a year, and this Christmas she had so much worth celebrating. It was a very different Hermione sat at the table this year compared to last.

 

A hand found hers, and she turned to face the reason for her happiness.

 

“I'm so pleased we are here together this year,” she whispered. 

 

“Me too,” he smiled, a flash of shame skittering across his face.

 

She squeezed his hand. “I love you, Mister Nott. I have a feeling next year is going to be our year.”

 

“Know something I don't, Granger?” he smirked. 

 

She shook her head, laughing. “Just a feeling, and well... it can't get much worse than last year, can it?”

 

“I certainly hope not,” he chuckled. He started to say something else but was interrupted by a commotion at the end of the table, where Blaise and Ginny sat with Ron and Demelza.

 

“I don't want a drink thank you, Ron!” Ginny was hissing at him, fending off his attempts to fill her glass. 

 

“Why not, Gin, you're usually all over the firewhisky. Not pregnant again, are you?” Ron guffawed, easily six firewhiskys in, and in very merry spirits. 

 

An audible gasp seemed to pass around the table as Ginny went red and Blaise looked sheepish. 

 

“Oh my god, you are!” Demelza cheered, equally as drunk as her husband.

 

As the table erupted with cheers and congratulations, Hermione smiled over at Harry who had turned a weird shade of green.

 

“Are you okay, Harry?” she asked with a frown. 

 

Harry shook his head, trying to stop her drawing attention to him, but it was too late. Pansy turned to look at him.

 

“Harry? What's wrong?” she asked, worried. “You look awful like you've seen a ghost!”

 

Harry was silent, his eyes fixed on the gravy boat that sat in his hand. He ignored both Pansy and Hermione and started to pour gravy over his remaining dinner. 

 

Pansy caught Hermione’s eyes, her face filled with panic at her boyfriend's odd behaviour. He was still pouring gravy, his plate now flooded.

 

“Got enough gravy there, Potter?” Theo asked. He'd seen what had happened and was trying not to laugh.

 

The table was quiet again, the celebrations stilled with Harry's odd behaviour. 

 

Suddenly a clump of unmixed gravy dropped out of the boat; Hermione thought it was a clump until it landed on the plate with a  _ clink _ . His hands went to his plate and picked up the lumpen object.

 

“Harry!” Pansy said. “What are you doing? What is wrong with you?”

 

“Pansy.” His voice was quiet, nervous even. “This wasn't quite how I planned this… but it fell out of my shirt pocket as I reached for the gravy, and well now… here we are! Not quite perfect, but still, surrounded by friends and family, so maybe it's not so bad.”

 

“Harry Potter, what  _ are _ you talking about?” she spat. “You sound like you have take leave of your senses!”

 

“Scourgify,” he muttered, and the gravy mess in his hand abruptly vanished, leaving behind a dazzling engagement ring. It was large, without being over the top, and it sparkled beautifully in the Christmas candlelight. 

 

Hermione looked from the ring to Pansy’s face; never did she think she would see the day that the Slytherin would be stunned into silence! Pansy lifted a hand to her mouth, dark eyes filling with tears.

 

Hermione found Theo's hand again and squeezed it tight, as Harry got down on one knee in front of the woman he had spent the last few years denying his feelings for.

 

“Pansy… I know we said that we were simply having fun, but I seem to have misunderstood the rules, and ended up falling in love with you. I was hoping you might consider updating the rules and making it more… serious?” He lifted the ring, smiling up at her. “Would you do me the great honour of letting me be your husband? Will you marry me?”

 

The silence stretched as Pansy struggled to keep her tears under control.

 

“Pansy, answer the poor man!” Ginny cried, bouncing up and down on her seat.

 

“Yes, you crazy man!” Pansy managed at last. “Yes!” She laughed, tears falling down her face, before she threw herself at Harry, kissing him so passionately that everyone had to turn away.

 

“Well, what an eventful Christmas!” Arthur said, after things had calmed down a little. “Does anyone else have any accidental news to share? Or can we finish eating?” he chuckled. “Oh, Molly dear, I think we need some more gravy, and maybe a new plate of food for Harry. Unless he really  _ wants _ Christmas dinner soup?” 

 

The whole table erupted into laughter, and happy chatter started up once more.

 

Hermione felt everything was slipping slowly into its rightful place in her life once more. Her hand rested ever so slightly on her stomach, praying this next year would deliver the final piece of the puzzle.

 

~~~

 

The Christmas festivities were over, and the new year about to be rung in. The party at Parkinson Manor was in full swing. 

 

Hermione dropped into a seat, taking a breather between all the dances. She noted her parents were enjoying themselves; she was so pleased that Pansy had thought to invite them tonight. Hermione knew they needed to be involved as much as possible in their lives. They had embraced every single magical thing that had been thrown at them over the years, adapting to it surprisingly well, and she was forever grateful. 

 

Ginny and Blaise were once again enacting some questionable behaviour on the dance floor, and the other Weasleys and their partners were scattered around the large hall.

 

Molly and Arthur had forgone the New Year festivities, and as such had inadvertently agreed to babysit their entire horde of grandchildren! Everyone was making the most of this rare, child-free evening.

 

Harry was engrossed in conversation with Luna, Theo, and Charlie; about what Hermione could only imagine, but everywhere she looked, she saw happiness, even in the faces of people she didn't know. 

 

_ Wonders will never cease _ , she thought, as she spotted Draco and Ron, conversing amicably over a drink. She spotted Roberts not too far away and realised that he and Draco hadn't spent a second in each other's company tonight. She huffed at her brother's obvious lack of nerve.

 

A giggling Pansy plonked herself down beside her suddenly, making her jump.

 

“Does one have something she wants to share with me, Lady Malfoy?” Pansy said with a wink.

 

“Gah,” Hermione muttered, “don't call me that! Thankfully, that has never been, and never will be, my name.”

 

“Deny it if you wish, but you are a Malfoy, dear!” 

 

“Pansy Potter has a lovely ring to it though.”

 

“Yes,” she replied smugly, “it does! And I won't have to change any of my lovely, monogrammed stationery! But stop trying to change the subject. Come on, out with it.”

 

“Out with what?” Hermione said, frowning at her.

 

“Do you think I can't see? I've been watching all night, and it's obvious. Although, you are Slytherin sly!”

 

“Watching what?” she said but knew her friend wasn't fooled. 

 

“There!” Pansy crowed, pointing triumphantly. “The tone of your voice changed! All high and squeaky, like you have a secret… You are a terrible liar, and I'm onto you, Hermione.” She leant closer, lowering her voice. “You haven't had a drink all evening. I've watched you swapping them, losing them, and even transfigure one when you thought no one was watching.”

 

Hermione didn't say a word.

 

“Hermione, are you pregnant?” Pansy asked, staring her friend dead in the eye.

 

She couldn't speak; any falsehood she came up with would be seen through instantly, so she just nodded mutely. 

 

“How far along are you? Does Theo know?” Pansy half squeaked, a range of emotions passing over her face, as her hands gripped Hermione's.

 

Hermione shook her head.

 

“What? Why!?” Pansy glared at her angrily for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Is everything okay?”

 

Hermione took a breath and spoke for the first time about the life that was growing inside her.

 

“I don't want to fail him,” she whispered. “I used a Muggle test, just before Christmas, because I had been feeling nauseous over the few weeks leading up to it.” She sighed. “I need to get past… I have to get through the first trimester this time…”

 

“Hermione, don't be so daft,” Pansy hissed. “It's been a week since Christmas. Theo will be hurt to know that you are doing this by yourself,  _ and _ concealed it from him! After all his work to get your insides working again too! Have you seen  _ anyone _ ?”

 

Her silence again told Pansy all she needed to know.

 

“Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy, you are a stubborn mule! If you don't tell Theo by the time midnight strikes, I will! Imagine how hurt he will be if you wait, knowing you hid this for so long? How far gone are you?”

 

“A month or more, I think?” she muttered. “Maybe mid-November? It could be as early as October, but I'm not a hundred percent sure. Morning sickness usually starts at about a month and a half, but as I don’t have normal, regular periods anymore, I haven’t been able to use them as a guide… I haven't told my midwife yet, or seen a Healer…”

 

“Go, tell him now! Seriously, woman, if I didn't care for you so much, I would slap your face!” She lunged forward and pulled Hermione into a hug that threatened to stop her breathing. “You two need this,” she whispered fiercely. “And just because it went wrong before, doesn't mean it will again.”

 

Taking hold of Hermione's face, Pansy planted a kiss on her mouth, then stood. “I will celebrate with you once you've told Theo!” With that, she spun away in a flare of skirts and disappeared into the throng of dancers. 

 

As brutal as Pansy could be it was quite possibly the realisation Hermione needed. What on earth  _ had _ she been thinking? The little devil of doubt hit her every time she thought about telling him. The moment that little white stick told her she was actually pregnant she cried and ran through the house to tell him the news, but he hadn't been there. She had forgotten he was out with the boys for the afternoon. As such, she had spent the next few hours alone, and the doubt in herself and her ability to bear a child had worked its way into her mind. By the time Theo had come home, she had decided to keep it a secret. How daft it made her look! Of course, she needed to tell Theo! 

 

She stood in a rush, her long dress tangling in her heels. She wobbled, but a hand caught her arm to steady her.

 

“My knight in shining armour,” she breathed as she found herself face to face with Theo.

 

“I hope you don't go around saying that to just anyone, Mina. People might get the wrong idea!” He grinned and kissed her cheek. “I thought we could take a private stroll in the gardens? There are only a few minutes of the year left.”

 

She nodded, a knot of tension in her stomach, and threaded her arm through his. Exchanging a few words with friends as they went, they soon found a private balcony, overlooking the main patio area and Pansy's expansive gardens, a small pond reflecting the moonlight up at them.

 

Theo kissed her; a deep kiss that left her wanting more.

 

“Hermione, I need to say something,” he whispered against her lips, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The small box in his pocket felt like a lead weight. The memory of Robert's firm handshake and Jean's hug was fresh in his mind, their permission meaning everything.

 

“Me too,” she breathed. “You first.”

 

“No, no, you go,” he said moving back slightly so they could speak normally. “Ladies first, I insist.”

 

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I need you not to be mad, but I have something to tell you… it's good news, I promise!” she said as she spotted the concern growing on his face. “I had a moment where I thought it was best to keep it myself, so I could… I don't know... prove something? But Pansy has reminded me how silly that is.”

 

The bells had started counting down the clock to the start of the New Year, their friends swarming outside for the countdown, but neither of them really registered it.

 

_ “10… 9… 8…” _

 

“Hermione, love, what is it? Of course, I won't be mad.”

 

_ “7… 6… 5…” _

 

“I'm… well…”

 

“4… 3… 2…”

 

She beamed up at him. “We're pregnant!”

 

“1… Happy New Year!!”

 

The cheers began as fireworks erupted into the air, blasting from many wands, and also from the gardens themselves as Pansy waved her wand to start the display.

 

Theo and Hermione stood in their own bubble of silence, as the world went mad around them. The look of shock on Theo's face a stark contrast to the exuberance of everyone below.

 

“It worked?” he choked out, tears in his eyes.

 

“Something did,” Hermione laughed, nodding.

 

Theo swooped her up in his arms and spun her around. Tears of joy fell from both their eyes and his kisses peppered her face.

 

“Hermione Granger, I love you so much!”

 

Placing her back on the floor he pulled her close, and they watched the fireworks, their hearts full of light.

 

“I told you this was going to be our year,” she said as he hugged her tight. 

 

In that moment of joy, they both forgot that Theo had something to say too, and the ring stayed where it was.

 

~~~

 

Theo leant back on the bed, watching the woman sat at the dressing table in front of him. A towel was piled up on her head, dressed in a pair of big, frumpy knickers, and a large grey t-shirt she used as a nightshirt. Her stomach had finally started to show the little life that was growing within, and it made him warm and happy to see.

 

“What are you staring at?” she asked as she removed her earrings.

 

“You,” he replied. “You look so beautiful.”

 

“Oh shush…” she scoffed, brushing away the compliment, hanging the towel on the back of her chair and scrubbing a hand through her slightly damp hair. “It won’t be long before I begin to resemble the Fat Lady!” 

 

“Well… your singing voices are on a par, from what I've heard,” he sniggered.

 

“Oi!” she cried, moving to the bed to whack him one.

 

“How was your session today with Dr Phillips?” he asked once he stopped fending off her attack. “I think  _ you _ have some anger issues to work through!” he laughed.

 

“You haven't learnt not to antagonise a pregnant woman, have you?” she said, hitting him with a pillow. For the next few moments, the room was filled with soft thumps and laughter, as she beat him with it.

 

“I give, I give!” he cried out, grabbing her around the waist, and pulling her onto the bed on top of him. He kissed her, allowing her to deepen the kiss at her own pace.

 

Their sessions with their various counsellors had lessened, and this new life they were creating had begun to heal the wounds that they struggled with. Their grief had changed into something else; something that would always be there, but now was a healthier version of it, and didn't consume.

 

They were five months into the pregnancy and had made it passed all the pitfalls of the last. Whilst it hadn't always been easy, they had survived and survived together.

 

Hermione's pregnancy had in fact been very smooth, though Theo was still horrified whenever she sprinkled gherkins on her porridge.

 

”Baby gets what baby wants!” she declared whenever he pulled a face.

 

“Baby's a monster!” he joked.

 

Their little girl, confirmed as such last month, was growing well, had reached all the milestones she should, and when they heard the heartbeat for the first time, they had both broken down with happiness. It was strong. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered as she put butterfly kisses across his face. Her hands were moving dangerously close to his half-buttoned trousers.

 

“You, and our little nugget.” 

 

“Our baby is not a  _ nugget _ ,” she laughed. “Anyway, I'm not sure now is the time for those serious thoughts.” She nipped his neck, and he groaned in agreement.

 

“I'm so glad I got over the ‘no sex whilst pregnant’ rule,” he said.

 

“Me too! For an intelligent man sometimes you are crazy stupid. Thinking you'd poke the baby...” 

 

“Shush, woman! It was a valid concern,” he groused, flipping them over, so he now hovered over her. 

 

“How big do you think your dick is?” she murmured into his kisses as he claimed her lips with his.

 

He gasped in mock outrage, frowning down at her as she giggled. Her hand reached down to stroke across the front of his trousers, slipping within to caress his cock through the material of his briefs.

 

Her eyes opened wide, her smile delighted. “Why,” she said, “what is this? Did some giant leave his mighty oaken club lying around in your underpants? The sheer immensity of it is truly terrifying!”

 

“You’re a cheeky bitch, Granger,” he growled, pinning her hands above her head.

 

“Maybe you should spank me with your massive club,” she said, trying to stifle the giggles.

 

“I’m not sure why I let you put clothes back on after your shower,” he said, one hand ghosting up and under her t-shirt, cupping a breast.

 

“Because you like removing them so much?” she whispered.

 

“This is true,” he smirked as her top landed beside the bed.

 

He kissed his way down her body taking his time, enjoying her moans and the feel of her writhing beneath him, the sight of her gripping the bedposts.

 

“Pregnancy suits you,” he growled, pinching one of her nipples.  

 

“It suits us,” she laughed.

 

His fingers slipped into the waistband of her knickers, his tongue trailing across her thigh when she stiffened beneath him, and her pained cry pierced the room. 

 

“What? What is it, Mina?” He sat up, staring at her in fear. “Have I hurt you?”

 

She was writhing on the bed, clutching her belly.  “Pain…” she gasped, tears falling down her face. “Theo… the baby…”

 

A scream was ripped from her, and Theo saw something he had no desire to ever see again: blood.

 

The front of her knickers and the bed beneath her was covered in blood. 

 

Without another thought, Theo Apparated to St Mungo’s and dragged the first Healer he found back to her bedside.

 

~~~


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 8

“Harry,” Pansy said, blinking rapidly, dabbing her eyes delicately with a lace handkerchief, trying to avoid disturbing her perfect makeup; natural shades predominated with subtle hints of purple, matching the tiny flowers woven into her hair. She gave a small laugh, and he squeezed her wrist encouragingly underneath the purple and navy cord that bound their arms together.

 

“Harry,” she tried again, “the Nilgiri Hills stand in southern India; the name means Blue Hills.” She smiled at his bemused expression. “They are covered in the kurinji shrub, which produces beautiful, delicate, violet flowers every twelve years, carpeting the hills in colour. It is no coincidence to me that it has been twelve years since I felt this way about anyone.

 

“I have spent years actively avoiding love, or attachment. I told myself that I didn’t need it, that no one person was ever going to make me feel happy. And until now, no one has ever made me feel this way... has never made love bloom in my heart, made me feel so safe and warm… made me feel  _ complete _ , the way that you have, Harry. Like the kurinji, these feelings have taken a long time to flower, but now that they have, they have lit up the hills and valleys of my heart and soul in a display more beautiful than I have ever known. 

 

“I accept you as my husband, my partner, my dearest friend, from now until I draw my last breath. I willingly, and with a glad heart, bind my magic with yours, and declare before all of our friends and family gathered here that I, Pansy Isabella Oralia Parkinson, love you, Harry James Potter, with every fibre of my being.”

 

The large room, packed with people dressed in their finest robes and formal wear, erupted into spontaneous applause and cheers.

 

Pansy blushed a deep red, covering her mouth with her hand and laughing. “Leave me alone,” she laughed, waving her hand at those seated behind her, “I’ve never said it out loud before! It’s a big deal for me!”

 

“It’s about bloody time is what it is,” called Draco, a couple of rows from the front, to a ripple of laughter. 

 

Pansy stuck her tongue out at him. “Sort your brother out, would you, Hermione?” she said, winking at her Maid of Honour.

 

“He's not wrong, Pans,” Hermione said with a grin, the bride's large bouquet of purple and blue flowers resting on her protruding belly. At seven months pregnant, she was feeling ever so slightly squeezed by her long, fitted, deep purple dress. The seamstress had adjusted it twice since it had been made, Hermione's bump continuing to defy expectations. She surreptitiously dabbed the sweat from her brow with a hankie, grinning over at Theo and her parents, sat next to Ginny and Blaise on the groom's side of the large, airy room. Theo returned her smile, blowing her a kiss.

 

Jean gave her a concerned look and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

 

She nodded, even though she longed to sit on one of the gold cloth covered chairs--there was one close by in case she needed it--but she resisted the urge, not wanting to draw focus away from Harry and Pansy's day. She was fine at the moment, but did wish that her baby would stop using her bladder as a punching bag! Her belly gave a slight flex, and she stifled a gasp.

 

_ You're going to be a fighter, aren't you? _

 

The last couple of months had been a little tense for her and Theo, and everyone close to them. Since March, when she spent a week in St Mungo's following the scare, she had been back and forth to the hospital weekly to make sure things were okay.

 

Despite their best efforts earlier in the year, there remained two wounds on her womb, leftover injuries from the curse. They had been able to heal one of them, but the other was inside, far too close to their baby to allow the Healers to close it completely. As soon as their daughter was born, they had an appointment to deal with it, but for now, she was under observation. They were concerned that the second wound might impact upon the baby's development, but so far everything was going well.

 

“Harry,” said the old wizard presiding over the ceremony, recalling Hermione’s attention, “please can you let us have your vows to Pansy?”

 

Harry passed his free hand through his hair, the special potion already starting to wear off in the May heat and causing it to begin reverting to its naturally messy state. “I’m not sure whether I can follow that, to be honest,” he said, the onlookers tittering softly. He pulled at the collar of his navy dress robes, clearing his throat and smiling nervously at Pansy.

 

Ron, stood at Harry’s side and dressed in nearly identical robes, leant forward and whispered something in his ear before patting him lightly on the shoulder. Ron winked at Hermione, who grinned at her best friends; even after all these years they still supported each other in times of crisis.

 

Harry's features calmed, and his eyes met Pansy's with confidence and warmth.

 

“Pansy,” he said, his voice steady and filled with humour and love, “it seems like you came into my life again only a short while ago. Outside of the stresses of work, they have been the most eye-opening and incredible years, learning about the warm, funny, and passionate woman beneath the aristocratic exterior you show the world. It amazes me that I fought against my feelings for so long when I quickly realised that I wanted nothing more than to spend all my free time at your side.

 

“We spent the last couple of years pretending that what we had wasn't serious when it was clear to everyone else that our feelings for each other were deeper than anything we had experienced before.

 

“I promise, before everyone gathered here today, that I will never leave you in any doubt about my feelings, will tell you every day how much I care for you. I happily bind my magic to yours. I will be your husband and partner, your rock--yours and our children's--the foundation and support in our family's lives, from now until the day I die. I, Harry James Potter, love you, Pansy Isabella Oralia Parkinson, more than I can ever express in words.”

 

“I think you had better kiss her before she explodes, young man,” smiled the old wizard, as Pansy bit her lip, bouncing lightly on her toes. Harry needed no more encouragement than that, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her against him.

 

Hermione dabbed at her eyes as Ron led the applause, whooping loudly as the congregation cheered and clapped. The old wizard waved his wand over the happy couple, silver and gold stars sparkling over their head, sealing them as husband and wife and binding their magic together.

 

After a moment Ron leant towards the amorous pair. “Alright, mate,” he said in a loud whisper, “put her down. Save something for the honeymoon!”

 

~~~

 

“How’re you feeling?”

 

“I’m good,” Hermione said with a grin. “My balls hurt, but I’m coping.”

 

Ron stopped them mid-turn in the middle of the dance floor. “Excuse me?” he said with a laugh.

 

The bride and groom danced on, focused solely on each other, as Hermione giggled. “The balls of my  _ feet _ ! These shoes are nice, but I’m hauling around an extra stone these days, it feels like...”

 

They started dancing again, seeing Harry and Pansy wave others onto the floor to join them.

 

“Mind if I cut in?” Theo said, appearing at their side.

 

“Not at all,” said Ron, bowing to Hermione before taking Theo's hand and waltzing him around for a few turns.

 

Laughing, Hermione swatted him on the shoulder. “Give me back my boyfriend, you knave!”

 

“‘Knave’!?” Ron cackled. “You’ve definitely been hanging around with Pansy too much!” He gave them both a hug before leaving to find Demelza. He paused halfway to shake hands with Blaise and give his sister a hug. Ginny was showing now but not as obviously as Hermione.

 

The room was filled with love, laughter and music; there was no drama, no danger, no pain. Her mother gave her a wave, dancing with her father, who smiled at the pair.

 

Hermione rested her head on Theo's chest and slowly swayed with him, holding him as close as her bump would allow, feeling her throat tighten and a tear creep into her eye.

 

As she brushed it away, Theo pulled back slightly. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

 

She laughed at his concerned expression. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I'm just so happy right now, some of it is coming out of my eyes.”

 

He pulled her close again, kissing the top of her head. “I don't think the day could have gone any better,” he said.

 

“Look at them,” she whispered, gazing at Harry and Pansy, still moving around the dance floor, lost in their own world. “At least someone's doing it the right way round.”

 

They laughed at that.

 

“Molly will be pleased that someone has done it right.” He took a deep breath, his hand slipping into his pocket and clutching the small box. “Mina…”

 

“Hold that thought,” she said urgently. “Baby, bladder…” With a grin she quickly made her way across the floor and into the toilets, feeling like she was about to explode. Theo was left behind, thwarted again.

 

She laughed as she opened the door to find Ginny leaning against the wall.

 

“You too?”

 

Ginny grinned. “Bloody thing is playing Quidditch in there… probably using my bladder as a Bludger! How are you doing?”

 

“Same,” Hermione said as she closed the door to the cubicle and hurriedly hitched her dress up.

 

“Everything else going okay?” Ginny called over the noise, giggling at Hermione's relieved sigh.

 

“Yes, no more concerns since that one in March. She's a good size, good position, strong heartbeat. Perfect.”

 

“Apart from the peeing!”

 

“Oh, God… I'd like to have one day where I don't nearly wet myself! Oo… Ouch…”

 

“Hermione? What's wrong?” Ginny said, coming closer.

 

“Nothing, just had a bit of a cramp. I've had a few throughout the day. That was a strong one though.”

 

“Are you…? Maybe it's those Bradford Higgs things you told me the Muggles get.”

 

Hermione laughed loudly at that. “Braxton Hicks, Gin. And everyone gets those, not just Muggles. You had false labour pains too, right? You're right though, I'm still a long way from my due date. Most likely a false alarm.”

 

“Still,” Ginny said, concerned, “keep an eye on it. If it gets worse, we'll have to get a Healer in to check you over.”

 

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Hermione replied, coming out of the cubicle and washing her hands. “So what are you doing, holed up in here?”

 

“Mum's fretting,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “She keeps wanting to make sure everything's going okay, that everyone's having a good time.”

 

“I'm sure everyone is.”

 

“That's what I said! Anyone would think Pansy didn't know how to put on a good party. Those other girls of hers, Giselle and that other one…”

 

“Vittoria.”

 

“That's the blonde one, isn't it?” Ginny sniffed as Hermione nodded. “She's got a stick up her arse, that one.”

 

“She's alright, just a bit…”

 

“Cold? Aloof? Arrogant to a fault?”

 

“All of that, yes,” Hermione sniggered, realising that Ginny's current mood wasn't all down to Molly flapping around. “She's a bit like Pansy though; if you can get through her shell, she's quite sweet and very good with organisation.”

 

“I'll break through her shell. With a bloody Beater's bat!”

 

“Ginny!” Hermione gasped. “What has Vittoria done to you to earn such venom?”

 

“She keeps looking at Blaise!”

 

“‘Looking at Blaise’?”

 

“You know what I mean! She’s flicking her hair, and pouting!”

 

“And you thought that hiding in here, sulking, would be the best way to protect your man from the attentions of a predatory female?”

 

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Ginny cried, heading for the door.

 

“I’m sure Blaise is enjoying the attention!” Hermione called after her, laughing.

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Ginny’s voice drifted through the closing door.

 

Still chuckling Hermione headed towards the door. A jolt of fear shot through her as a cramp--horribly, terribly reminiscent of those awful ones she had experienced over a year ago--twisted her belly. Gasping at the intensity, she leant against the wall, hand to her stomach. Her bump felt tight, solid almost.

 

As quick as it had come, the cramp receded. She leant against the wall, panting for breath, fear still riding her heart.

 

“Oh, what are you up to little one…? It's far too early for you yet.”

 

She could hear the music through the walls, the party having kicked up a notch now. Concentrating on her breathing Hermione waited, wanting to see if it was a one-off cramp. She refused to panic, refused to let the fear beat her. A minute passed. Then five. Eight. Ten minutes...

 

_ There is nothing wrong, _ she told herself,  _ just a false labour cramp, that's all… _

 

Another wave of pain told her the lie of that, her body clenching tightly, and she couldn't stop the cry of pain. Biting her lip, her voice was almost a growl as she moaned, holding her belly.

 

“Okay,” she muttered, “okay… nothing to panic about. Braxton Hicks… perfectly normal…”

 

She sat on the cool floor, counting and breathing.

 

“Hermione? Are you okay in there?”

 

“Theo,” she called, and he was suddenly beside her.

 

“Merlin! What's wrong?” He cradled her, holding her against him.

 

“False labour pains, nothing to worry about,” she said with a tight grin.

 

“It's too early,” he said, concerned.

 

“Yes, thank you, Doctor Nott,” she growled, gritting her teeth against another cramp.  _ How long was that? Six minutes? _

 

“How many have you had?”

 

“A few, none that have been really painful though.”

 

“Regular? How far apart?” There was a note of panic in his voice.

 

“I honestly have no idea. They’re not regular, and have been happening on and off all day…”

 

“All day!? Hermione! Why didn't you say something?”

 

“Because I didn't want to ruin Harry and Pansy's day, and have you in a flap!”

 

“We have to get you to St Mungo's…”

 

“Don't be ridiculous, Theo!” she snapped. “The pain isn’t constant, there’s no blood… It's false labour, nothing more. I've had them occasionally over the last couple of weeks, admittedly not this strong, but she's gearing up for the main event. It's far too early like you said.” She smiled then, touching his cheek gently and moderating her tone. “I'm fine, love. It’s probably the most normal thing we’ve experienced so far. Come on, let's get back out there before my mother starts to freak out.”

 

~~~

 

It had been an hour since, and Hermione was chatting with Arthur about her prospects at the Ministry. The Braxton Hicks contractions were still happening, and Hermione had mentally judged them to be a good fifteen minutes apart, and holding to that pattern.

 

They were also starting to get a bit more painful.

 

_ Nothing to worry about yet _ , she told herself.  _ Still not the real things; those ones will be obvious, according to Ginny! _

 

“I feel like I'm treading water at the moment. Working with the Aurors has been interesting, and I'm building up a picture of what needs to change in our world.”

 

“There are so many things, Hermione. Well, you know how I feel about Muggles, and how they're treated by wizarding kind! I was speaking to your parents earlier. Wonderful couple!”

 

Hermione grinned as she saw Arthur warming up to his favourite subject.

 

“I really do feel that they are fascinating people!” he enthused. “We could learn a lot from them, and they from us. If only we had someone at the top that could lead us in that direction.”

 

Hermione took a deep breath. “That's what I had in mind too, Arthur.”

 

It took a moment before his eyes widened. “Really?” he said.

 

“Calm down,” she laughed, “Kingsley doesn't have to worry about his job just yet!” She placed a hand on her bump. “But when she's older? Yeah, I've got my sights set that high.”

 

“Well, you know you'll have my support, all the way,” he enthused.

 

“The Malfoy name has to be good for something, doesn't it?”

 

“It won't hurt, certainly. Draco has done a good job over the last ten years or so, digging that name out of the mud. Now respectable folk look up to him, and it doesn't hurt that the ladies love him.”

 

“The ladies love my man too,” she said ruefully. “Maybe they'll put me in office so I'll be too busy to keep him happy, and they can swoop in!”

 

“I don't think you'll have any worries about anyone swooping that man away from you, my dear.”

 

“Why are you being like this?” someone half shouted from nearby, and the pair swung around to see what was going on.

 

“Damn it, Roberts, you're being stupid!”

 

It was Draco, almost nose to nose with Darryl. Everyone was looking now, but the two men seemed oblivious.

 

“Every time we see each other in these sorts of settings, you almost act like you don't know me,” Darryl said, quiet anger in his voice. “What are you afraid of?”

 

“I'm not afraid, rookie!” Malfoy growled. “This is a wedding. Other people are trying to enjoy themselves, and they don't need you throwing your dolly out the pram.”

 

“Oh, and we're back to the age jokes again.” Darryl shook his head. “I really thought you were past that, Draco.”

 

Hermione, along with almost everyone else in earshot was staring now. Hermione’s mouth was open in shock, silently willing something to happen; she was annoyed that, despite all her efforts to make Draco make a move, it appeared he still hadn't done so. She resolved to have serious words with him after this.

 

“I told you; I haven't got a problem with your age, blood, colour, or whatever else you want to throw out there!” Draco was going red in the face now, but Hermione couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or anger.

 

“Then what is it?” Roberts said, folding his arms, his body stiff with anger.

 

“I'm scared to tell you that I love you, you fucking idiot!”

 

Darryl looked stunned; Hermione gasped and grabbed Arthur's arm, a hand over her mouth. She saw the whole room was frozen in shock as Draco's words echoed.

 

“You… what?” Darryl’s voice was almost a whisper, but it carried in the sudden silence. His arms dropped bonelessly to his side.

 

Draco seemed to become aware of everyone staring and started to stammer.

 

“No, no!” Roberts said quietly, grabbing his hand. “Look at me! Just look at me… What did you just say?”

 

Draco looked at Darryl, a smirk on his lips. “I said you're a fucking idiot.”

 

The move was sudden, but the pair came together in a tight embrace, lips locked, hands fisted in each other’s robes. Hermione couldn't stop the cheer the burst out of her, and she hugged Arthur, who still looked a little bewildered.

 

“It's about bloody time!” Hermione called, laughing as Draco stuck two fingers up at her without removing his lips from Darryl's. She glanced around, seeing several of Pansy's friends--ones she knew were single--looking on with expressions of jealousy, annoyance, and sadness.

 

_ Sorry, ladies, _ she thought with a grin,  _ my brother's off the market! _

 

A vice clamped down on her belly then, squeezing hard, causing her to cry out. Her knees buckled, and it was only Arthur's quick reflexes that saved her from tumbling to the floor.

 

“Hermione!” he said, holding her upright. “What’s the matter?”

 

The cramp wasn't fading. It just kept going and going, and it was  _ so _ painful! She couldn’t stop the pained moan that hissed 

 

“Breathe,” someone was saying to her through the blood pounding in her ears. “Come on, Mina… breathe through it…”

 

“No, Theo…” she gasped, the cramp-- _ contraction _ , she mentally corrected--finally relaxing. “No, it's too early… it can't be happening now.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor Granger,” he said, half smiling as she glared at him. “We need to get you to St Mungo's now.”

 

“We can't leave yet! It's still early.”

 

“Early or not, that was a contraction!” Jean Granger said, appearing at her side. “A real one. And as you're still a long way from due, as well as being at risk, I think you need to go.”

 

Hermione sighed. “You're right, I know.” She clutched Theo's hand. “That was so much more painful than I was expecting! Theo, mum, I'm scared. What if…?”

 

She was in his arms then, cradled gently, his hand stroking her hair. “Me too, darling,” he whispered, “but I'm here. Let's get there and see what's going on.”

 

“I’m sure she’s just impatient to meet you, pumpkin,” Robert Granger said, taking Theo's place and hugging his daughter.

 

“I'll call a car,” said Harry from Hermione's side.

 

She looked up, seeing his Patronus already cantering away. “Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to mess things up!”

 

“Don't be daft,” he said, “nothing is messed up! If anything, this will be a blessing! When you're being Little Miss Organised, preparing for your little one's birthday, I'll remember I need to sort out an anniversary present!”

 

Hermione giggled, as Pansy glared and smacked him on the shoulder.

 

“Ow!” he cried. “I'm joking!”

 

“Let us know what's happening, okay?” said Ginny, hugging Hermione tightly. “Love you!”

 

“Love you too, Gin,” Hermione said, returning her embrace just as fiercely.

 

“In bocca al lupo, miei amici!” said Blaise, hugging them both. Turning to Theo, he grinned. “And watch your fingers, mio amico! Childbirth hurts you too!”

 

“Thanks for that,” Theo said with a laugh, and Blaise just winked at him.

 

“Oh God…” Hermione gasped.

 

Everyone spun towards her again, seeing her eyes wide.

 

“Mina?”

 

“I think we can discount the possibility that it’s a false alarm,” she whispered, looking down.

 

Theo followed her gaze and saw the puddle of water gathered around her feet.

 

~~~


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 9

The room was cold this early in the morning. He hadn't managed much sleep over the last few nights, despite offers from friends to take up the vigil so he could get some rest; he couldn't accept any of them. He knew enough stimulant charms to keep himself going for a few more days. He'd suffer for it, but he would be here if anything changed.

 

Darkness seemed to lurk in every corner and shadow of the room. He stared out through the window, the glass charmed to overlook Trafalgar Square, even though St Mungo's was a fair distance from the famous plaza.

 

He and Hermione had spent far too much time in these hospital rooms over the last couple of years. He wouldn't mind if he never visited this damn place ever again. He leant his head against the glass, fighting to keep the tears from finding release; he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself.

 

The door opened, and Theo watched in the window's reflection as the Healer entered and moved over to the centre. The Healer waved his wand and whispered a word of magic, a diagnosis charm settling over the patient.

 

“How is she?” Theo asked, stepping closer.

 

“Stable,” the Healer replied, “but still weak. So far, so good. The next few days will tell us more, Mister Nott.”

 

Theo nodded; it was the same as yesterday and the day before that. Four days so far, and still just 'the next few days’. He smiled at the Healer as he left, but there was little humour in it. He felt numb. Couldn't sleep.

 

The monitoring charms pulsed and beeped quietly around him, keeping the Healers alerted to any changes. As long as she kept doing what she was doing, everything would be fine.

 

If he kept telling himself that, he might eventually believe it.

 

The Healers had determined that Hermione would never have made it to full term, something they could only be sure of after the events that followed Harry and Pansy's wedding. Adrian’s handiwork had struck them once again. As far as they could determine that second curse wound within her uterus opened when their baby grew to just the right size. It caused a chain of events that saw him all but living in this hospital once more. 

 

Hermione had been rushed to St Mungo's directly from the wedding, both of them panicking because her waters had broken, yet each trying to calm the other. Needless to say, neither was particularly calm as they arrived.

 

The team had been great, determining that the baby was coming, ready or not, and taking Hermione away immediately to prepare for the birth, leaving Theo to pace the halls outside.

 

That was when the alarms had started ringing, and he watched, momentarily rooted in place, as the medi team ran down the corridor Hermione had just been taken down.

 

He gave chase.

 

The pregnancy, bar that one scare, had been too easy, and now, at the final hurdle, something was wrong. It was hard to not expect the worst when it came to their past.

 

His stomach dropped as he heard her blood-curdling screams, long before he reached the room. Her name was written in flowing script on the nameplate, but he barely noticed it as he barged in. He could hardly see her past the Healers that crowded the room, all shouting instructions, questions, medi-witches and wizards running back at forth with bloodied rags, junior Healers taking readings and shouting the results.

 

“What's happening?” he asked the closest witch.

 

“An internal curse wound has broken open,” she said sharply, hurriedly gathering clean bandages. “It's attacking once more. You need to wait outside!”

 

Another scream pierced the room.

 

“The baby…”

 

“We will do what we can, Mister Nott.” She paused then, briefly laying a hand on his arm. “We may… have to make a choice over who to save. I'm sorry.”

 

The witch bustled back into the throng before Theo could even think of a response. His heart was in his throat. He couldn't have got close to her, and he was terrified of interfering.

 

As one, the medi team spread out, creating a circle around Hermione, and Theo saw her.

 

She was writhing in pain. Her hair, which had been so neat only an hour earlier, was now a mass of sweaty, messy curls. Her bridesmaid dress was gone, and a hospital robe covered her. He longed to hold her, to soothe the pain. This was meant to be their happiest day. It certainly wasn't meant to be this!

 

He took a step forward, but a large, burly man stopped him. “No closer or you're out. I know it's tough, but don't get in the way!”

 

Theo subsided, holding his hands up until the man released him. He watched, hugging himself and gnawing on his knuckle.

 

The witches and wizards started to chant, wands waving intricately. The rhythm and cadence caught his ear, and, after far too long, he realised they were using the cure he had developed: both of them.

 

Twenty minutes later and they were still going. Theo's nerves were shot. He had watched Hermione alternate between screaming and writhing madly, to barely moving. Every minute a wizard or a witch would cast a different charm and shout something incomprehensible to Theo. The Healers knew what it meant though, clearly, as each time the cadence of their chanting changed; quieting or intensifying by turns.

 

Two little lights had appeared above the bed, numbers, both over a hundred and fifty. They rose and fell with the chanting, almost as a counterpoint.

 

They were heartbeats, he suddenly realised, the baby's and Hermione's! Both were high, but the baby's should be anyway; Hermione's should not be that high though. He couldn't tell which was which, and couldn't take his eyes away from the two little lights, his heart beating almost as fast as they fluctuated.

 

Hermione was now barely moving, terrifyingly silent. Her eyelids fluttered, her fists gripped into the sheet beneath her like it was the only thing holding her on Earth. He was almost certain, if they made it through this, this new hell would haunt him to his dying day.

 

Nearly half an hour had passed when one of the witches said something that he recognised and understood.

 

“We’re losing her!”

 

His eyes snapped to the heartbeats; one was still rapid and steady, holding at one hundred and forty-five. The other… As he watched it dropped from over a hundred to less than twenty in a second. Then it went out completely.

 

“No!” he yelled, reaching for Hermione.

 

He barely knew what happened, but he was suddenly in the corridor outside, the burly porter holding him against the wall. His last sight had been the Healers diving forward, calling for surgical implements.

 

He struggled and fought, desperate to get back to her side, but the porter was far stronger than him.

 

“I understand, mate, but you're not going back in.” The man's voice was calm and even but brooked no nonsense. “They need the room clean. They need to get your baby out safely before they can help either of them, and you kicking off won't help.”

 

“Who was crashing? Please tell me that!”

 

“I honestly don't know, I'm sorry. I'm not a Healer, but from the little I know, the steady heartbeat could have been either of them. They will come get you as soon as they're done.”

 

Theo fought for a few more seconds, then slumped, exhausted. He nodded to the porter, and let himself be taken to a nearby room. He was brought a cup of hot tea and told to wait; they would bring him news as soon as they could.

 

In the two hours that followed he was joined by others. Not all were allowed to stay, but they hugged him and whispered encouragement; Harry, Ginny, Molly, Draco… he lost track of who came and went. Jean and Robert Granger were the only ones allowed to stay.

 

Theo broke down in Jean's arms, still not knowing who it was he had lost.

 

~~~

 

Theo sighed and shook the memory of that night away. Walking forward he gazed down at her sleeping form, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. She was so beautiful.

 

“Hey, how you doing?” whispered a voice from the door. Jean Granger came to his side and laid a hand on his arm. “When was the last time you had any sleep?”

 

“You ask me that every time,” Theo said with a smile. “Same as before, I'm not tired.”

 

“Rubbish,” Robert scoffed from the doorway, “you're bloody knackered, boy! Go on down to the other room and actually close your eyes. You'll feel better for it, trust me.”

 

“Doctor's orders,” Jean said sternly.

 

“You're dentists,” Theo said with a grin.

 

“Which is a doctor!” Jean said, poking him in the ribs. “Just because we don't insist on being called Doctor Granger, doesn't mean we don't have the right to that title. You have the title of exhausted man who needs to sleep. Now out. We'll look after her.”

 

Theo held up his hands in surrender then. “Okay, okay, I'm going,” he laughed.

 

He looked down again, placing a hand on the hard plastic of the incubator.

 

His daughter, their little nugget, so small and fragile and not much more than two pounds in weight, lay within. Breathing charms filled and emptied her underdeveloped lungs, healing charms helping her organs to grow; the small plastic box now her world away from her mother's womb. She was fighting so hard to live.

 

The medi team who were looking after her around the clock were very impressed, and on the whole, the prognosis was good.

 

The last few days had been far worse than anything Adrian had done to him.

 

He longed to hold her. He longed to hold both of the loves of his life, and yet fate had once again intervened.

 

“Have you decided on her name?” Jean asked.

 

“We discussed names a lot over the last few months. Hermione refused to let me call her nugget.” He gave a huff of laughter.

 

“Well, she's certainly as big as a nugget,” Robert said with a grin.

 

“We settled on Kiaria. It means 'miracle’.”

 

“It's beautiful,” Jean said, her throat closing up as tears sprang to her eyes. “Now, go on,” she said, gruffly clearing her throat. “Sleep!”

 

He stifled the yawn that threatened, determined not to show how tired he was, and made his way down the cooly lit hallway towards the other room he was spending half of his time in.

 

With a sigh, he dropped down into the chair next to the bed. He would humour them, just for an hour or so. Truth be told the stimulant charms weren't working as effectively as they should, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open.

 

“Theo?”

 

He snapped to full wakefulness then, looking up to see daylight flooding the room. How long had he been out?

 

“Theo?” The voice was filled with concern now.

 

“I'm up,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes and standing, moving over to the bed. “How are you feeling, Mina?”

 

Hermione looked up at him, eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling. “Theo… I can't feel the baby… Why can't I feel her?”

 

He stroked her forehead, speaking soothingly. “It's okay, darling.”

 

“Where's our baby?” she gasped, feeling her stomach.

 

He laid a hand on hers, stilling her frantic pressing of her belly. “Hermione, stop. She's not in there anymore. Our daughter…” His voice caught as he spoke, thick with emotion. “She…”

 

“No!” Hermione cried, fearing the worst. “Theo, tell me it didn't happen again!”

 

“Mina, no, it didn't! It's okay,  _ she's _ okay. She made it. She is very early, and underdeveloped. Our beautiful little girl is a fighter, but her heart stopped in the birthing room. They revived her, and she's here with us, she’s just having some help in a special ward.”

 

Tears trickled down her face. “Oh, Theo, I need to see her!” She pulled at the covers before realising a charm was holding her in place. “What…?”

 

“It's precautionary, my love. You need to stay here for a while longer. You're on the Janus Thickey ward.”

 

“Why?” she asked, eyes wider than before.

 

“The curse and what happened after the wedding… it affected your memory, so they are keeping you under observation until it comes back.”

 

“I remember the wedding… and coming here. But everything else… It's just blank, or muddled...”

 

Theo nodded, squeezing her hand comfortingly. “This is the fourth day since.” He smiled and gave her kiss on the forehead. “We have this conversation every time you wake up.”

 

“What if I'm like this forever,” she whispered.

 

“Then I will have this conversation with you every day, for the rest of our lives. I'm sure that won't be necessary though. You respond differently every time, you remember a little more, and accept the facts a little easier too. You didn't even remember the wedding on the first day. I think you're getting there.”

 

“I need to see her,” she said, tears still sneaking down her cheek.

 

“And you will.” He sat on the edge of the bed, moving a strand of hair from her face and wiping her tears away. “You will, as soon as you are strong enough.” His voice cracked, and he choked back his tears. “I thought I'd lost you! You did so well, and our daughter is beautiful and as strong as her mother, but if you ever scare me like that again, Hermione Granger…”

 

She pulled him to her, both holding the other as tightly as they could. They let out their pain, feeling other's love surround and comfort them, easing his fears and soothing her nerves. Forehead to forehead they just breathed in each other's presence, comforted and relieved.

 

Despite everything, it might actually all work out.

 

~~~

 

A few days later Theo was pacing up and down the corridor outside his daughter's incubator room: they were removing her from its confines today, the medical team having finally determined that she was now strong enough to live without magical intervention.

 

Hermione's memory loss had passed in that time, but her internal scar tissue was still causing some pain, and she remained confined to her bed. Their daughter was a week old, and she still had not seen her, let alone held her. The best Hermione had been able to do for her is express as much milk as she could to be given to Kiaria via a feeding tube.

 

It had been an emotionally tough week for all of them.

 

Mr and Mrs Granger had visited every day and smuggled in a Muggle camera so Hermione could at least see pictures of Kiaria. Her emotions usually got the better of her as she demanded to be released, only to break down once more when she was told no by the Healers. 

 

Now though, finally, Theo would be able to hold his daughter and take her to meet her mother. 

 

He had been so focused on Hermione he had almost forgotten that  _ he _ hadn't held his daughter either. His palms were sweaty; friends’ children were one thing, but to now have to look after his own, now the moment was here, could he do it? He knew he wanted to, but could he? Could he be a better father to his children than his own had been to him? Genetics were genetics after all. Was it a hereditary thing? 

 

He had little time to let these silly doubts plague him as all too soon the door opened, and Healer Dawlish was walking towards him.

 

“Mister Nott, meet your daughter,” Marybelle said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

 

Suddenly Theo's world pivoted on its axis as he carefully received the bundle from the older woman's arms. He couldn't form coherent words, lost in the tiny, bright blue eyes that stared up at him. He barely noticed as Marybelle patted him on the arm and left him alone.

 

So small, but so perfectly formed. Theo's vision blurred with tears. Alone in St Mungo's corridors, he pledged his life to look after his little nugget, no matter what it took.

 

~~~

 

Hermione woke to the familiar bright lights of the hospital room. Each day the pain in her abdomen had lessened, and she was pleased to note, as she shifted in bed, that this morning she felt almost nothing. A sharp little twinge or two was all.

 

Allowing her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room it took a few moments for her to realise Theo was sat next to her. And his arms were full.

 

Forgetting herself, she sat bolt upright and cried out as that sharp twinge reminded her of its presence.

 

“Careful, sweetheart,” Theo said, startling slightly.

 

“Is she real?” she whispered, ignoring him and the pain. “Is she really here?”

 

“Yes, she is, my love. She is here finally.” He smiled up at her, not bothering to wipe the tears of joy from his cheeks. “Would you like to hold her?”

 

“Do the Weasleys have red hair?” she laughed. “Of course!”

 

She shuffled carefully around, settling the pillows against her back, so she was sat up straight. Gently Theo passed Kiaria to her as her arms reached out. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back in her mind, and the part of her soul that had been missing when she had awoken from her memory haze was back.

 

The baby snuffled and sighed, threatening to wake at the change of parent, but within a moment her little hands stopped moving, and her face returned to the calm, blissful sleep that only a baby can find.

 

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of her. “She’s so beautiful,” she sighed, “and so small. Are… they sure she will be okay, Theo? She seems so delicate.”

 

Theo moved to sit next to her on the bed, gently turning her face to look at him. His thumbs wiped away the tears she hadn't realised were falling.  

 

“Our little nugget is strong, Hermione Granger, just like her mother. And maybe partly her father. The Healers have said that she may need a few supporting charms over the first few months of her life with us. They want to see if she can feed directly and that you don't have any issues or concerns in that regard. After that though? There is no reason that she won't be perfectly healthy moving forward.”

 

She leaned forward to capture his lips briefly. “You, Theodore Nott, are the strongest man I've ever met, and I've met a few that tried to claim that title. I love you, so much. Look at her! Our miracle... despite all the odds!”

 

“She is certainly that, Mina. I love you too. More than anything.”

 

He shifted away from her slightly then, his hand delving into his pocket. Hermione distracted once more by the sleeping bundle, didn't notice until he started speaking.

 

“Hermione... my darling Mina. We have been through a lifetime of ups and downs in a matter of years, if not months!”

 

Her body stiffened, eyes still fixed on the baby, but now opened wide. She looked around, seeing the box in his hand. It suddenly seemed hard to breathe.

 

“You have been my beacon of hope in my darkest hour,” Theo continued, his heart pounding, “the never failing rock in my life when I have been weak. You're the sexiest, and most seductive woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And you have given me the most perfect daughter a man could ever wish for.”

 

A tear spilled down her cheek, her gaze caught by his open expression, as he hopped off of the bed and dropped to one knee. He lifted the box, opening it towards her and hearing her gasp at the sight of the ring.

 

“We're a family, Hermione. You are the family I've always wanted and needed. It feels long overdue, but, Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?”

 

He watched her eyes lift to his face, mouth open, seemingly unable to speak.

 

“Don't drop the baby,” he quipped nervously.

 

“If my hands weren't full, I’d smack you for that,” she laughed, her face relaxing.

 

“Charming, a poor guy asks you to marry him and gets a slap for his trouble. Which of us is the cheeky bitch again?” He laughed as she stuck her tongue out at him. “Well?” he asked. “How about an answer? I swear to Merlin, it's a surprise I haven't been diagnosed with a weak heart...”

 

She laughed fully then, the first time she had really laughed since they had found themselves back in this hospital. “Yes, Mister Nott! Yes, yes, yes!” she cried. “You know the answer already, and it would never be anything but yes. You're my soulmate…”

 

Hermione didn’t get to finish that sentence as his lips crashed down on hers. The kiss was heated, his hand on the back of her head, gripping her hair.

 

“Woman, I love you,” he breathed heavily as they broke apart.

 

They were so lost in each other's eyes, that for the moment they almost forgot the tiny child in Hermione's arms. Kiaria reminded them of her presence as the jostling disturbed her and she let out a loud wail.

 

Theo stepped back to give Hermione space as she unclipped one side of her hospital gown and lowered the material. It seemed almost instinctive, as she lifted Kiaria and cuddled her closer, gently positioning her nipple on the baby’s lip as if she had been doing it her whole life.

 

“Come on, darling,” she crooned softly as the little mouth opened, trying to latch on and suckle. Hermione looked up at Theo, concern in her eyes as Kiaria struggled, still squalling.

 

“It’s okay, Mina, she’s only little. Marybelle did say it might be too early yet.” As he spoke, he fished a small bottle from his pocket, waving his wand over it to sterilise the teat and warm the contents. “Here, at least you’ll be able to feed her yourself now. You can try again later if you want.”

 

The miniature teat was much easier for Kiaria to handle and she quickly drained the bottle, Hermione staring raptly down at her. It stopped her cries and silence once more prevailed as she yawned. Her eyes drifted closed again and quickly fell asleep.

 

“Don't be thinking that is acceptable behaviour Little Miss Nugget,” Theo whispered, lightly stroking Kiaria's head. “Interrupting your parents is bad manners, and I'll be kissing your mother plenty in the future!”

 

Hermione chuckled, cradling her baby close. 

 

“Well, future Mrs Nott, now our daughter has been settled, we can continue with what was so rudely interrupted… Can I put this ring on your finger?”

 

She nodded, lost for words as he took it out of the box and showed her properly. She breathed a sigh, awed at the beauty of the gemstone. “Theo… the runes...”

 

“I know, my love. It's like this ring picked me.”

 

“They talk of future happiness, health, love… Everything we could ask for!”

 

“Now woman, for the love of Merlin,  _ please _ let me put this ring on your finger! I've been holding on to it for months, waiting for the right moment! I should have known in our life that doesn't happen, but this is damn close!”

 

“Months?!” she mock cried. “Theodore Nott, you were holding out on me!” She looked down at Kiaria and Theo could see the reluctance in her eyes. “Here,” she said at last, offering her up to him. “Pop her in her crib, and we can have a short adult moment.” She sighed as Theo gently took her, then gave a little laugh. “I can last a few minutes without her... Oh, and pass me my wand, please.”

 

Theo carried their daughter over to her crib and delicately positioned her in it. Once he was happy she wasn't going to cry, he grabbed Hermione’s wand and passed it to her. He looked at her, slightly confused, as she cast a quick enchantment; her messy hair abruptly looked immaculate.

 

She lifted her nose slightly at his raised eyebrow. “The Malfoy heir cannot be proposed to in such a state.”

 

He gave a snort of laughter and shook his head as her severe expression broke into a grin. Finally he got hold of her hand, his own hand shaking as he positioned the ring on her finger. 

 

“You make me so happy, Theo,” she whispered.

 

“Likewise, my love,” he kissed her gently, slipping the box back into his pocket.

 

His fingers brushed his wand, and he was shocked as it sprang into his hand! Drawing it free he looked at it in confusion, feeling it start to almost pulsate with restrained power.

 

“What…?”

 

Hermione’s wand was still in her hand, and she gave a gasp, feeling the magical energy flowing through it.

 

With a sudden movement both wands pulled towards each other, the tips touching and sparking, pulsating at alternate times until, slowly, they converged into one matching pulse.

 

Theo couldn’t explain it, but as the wands’ power melded he felt his heart speed up slightly to match that of his wand. It was the weirdest of feelings, and from the look on Hermione's face, something similar was happening to her; he saw her free hand move to touch over her heart. He couldn't resist reaching out for that free hand with his own, gripping it tightly, as hearts and wands beat together.

 

With a large burst of sparkling light the wands went silent, and the pull they had felt disappeared.

 

Blinking away the afterglow of the blinding light, Theo looked down and saw a black mark on his wand hand, on the skin between his thumb and forefinger. He brought his hand up, frowning at it. It was small but clear; it resembled a tattoo! He glanced up to see Hermione investigating the exact same thing. A tiny heart with two wands crossed over it, the tips of the two wands meeting.

 

“What….?” he began, but Hermione moved so quickly that before he could finish, her lips crashed into his. He flung his arms around her and drank in her kiss as if he was a dehydrated man and she was crisp, clean water. A funny sensation flooded through him as her hands gripped his hair. He couldn't make it out, but it was intense; he was almost certain it felt good, but his brain wasn't really keeping up.

 

After a brief eternity, Hermione pulled back, her eyes flashing and cheeks flushed. “I knew it!” she cried.

 

“You knew what?” Theo asked, confused, still trying to process this warm, tingling sensation that suffused his very bones: it wasn’t the normal pleasure he felt at Hermione’s touch and kiss, it was  _ deeper _ .

 

“Can you not feel it?” she asked, her eyes welling up as she touched his cheek, laughing at the play of magic that danced across her skin.

 

“Feel what?” he breathed. “I can feel many things right now, none of which I've had time to digest...”

 

Her demeanour changed instantly. He saw the trembling emotion disappear, and a devilish little smirk play around her mouth. “Kiss me again, Theo.”

 

“Witch, you are a riddle,” he said with a grin, but he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to kiss that beautiful mouth again. He pulled her close to him, capturing her face in his hands.

 

The kiss deepened, their bodies pressed together, she almost crushing him to her... And he felt it then, felt what she had been referring to.

 

Their heartbeat wasn't just in time: their heartbeat was one.

 

Somehow, and he wasn't sure he even understood how or why, but their wands had not only connected to each other but had connected  _ them _ to each other in a way he wasn't sure was even physically possible and yet…. It appeared to have happened.

 

He suddenly felt rather than heard Hermione laughing against his lips. 

 

“And the sickle finally drops,” she murmured, pulling away from him, and wiping the tears of happiness from her eyes.

 

“What? How…” He spluttered incoherently for a moment, as she simply giggled at him. “Sweet Merlin,” he finally gasped out, “what has happened here? How...?” 

 

She laughed and didn't answer his garbled questions, simply kissing him again. He felt the warmth of their love, bursting from every fibre of her being, flooding through him, skipping through his veins and over his skin; he could sense her amusement, and knew that she could feel his mind analysing this feeling.

 

This was special:  _ she _ was special, and it seemed that fate had determined they would never be parted again.

 

~~~


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Chapter 10

Hermione had finally been allowed to come home with their little miracle after a fortnight; Kiaria had demonstrated continual weight gain, and though she was still tiny, the Healers were happy that she was in no further danger.

 

A couple of days went by when Theo said he had to pop out for a couple of hours. When she had tried to protest, still nervous about being left on her own, he had been adamant that whatever it was couldn't wait, but he invited Draco around to sit with her, in case she needed anything. She sensed he wasn't telling her everything but decided not to argue. She would find out later she was sure; their almost empathic connection ensured that there were no secrets between them anymore, and that worked perfectly for both of them.

 

She was looking forward to catching up with Draco, a fact that still surprised her. She had barely seen him since her rushed exit from the wedding; he had been trying to manage the media storm around the big news that he was no longer eligible for Bachelor of the Year, the outrage over who his apparent love was, the vitriolic outpourings about Darryl’s age and blood status, and everything in between. Witch Weekly had been having a field day with this, and both men were getting daily, if not hourly, howlers! The press were following Draco everywhere, and he hadn't wanted to visit and add to the circus that was currently camped outside of St Mungo’s, waiting for news about Theo and Hermione's baby.

 

He sent a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, comprised of azaleas, peonies, baby's breath, and lilies, and a card which promised he would be around to visit, as soon as they were home. Roberts delivered them, ignoring Hermione's knowing smirk and refusing to be drawn into any mention of his and Draco's relationship. He had snuck past the reporters after George and Ron created a distraction.

 

The ‘distraction’ got out of hand and led to Dawlish having to arrest the pair for breach of the peace. The street outside St Mungo's, however, had never looked so colourful as it did for those couple of days before the Improper Use of Magic team managed to remove the charms placed on it. Both men were charged with breaches of the Statute of Secrecy and causing an affray, and were heavily fined, but were fortunate to avoid time in Azkaban. Hermione, when she heard about it the next day, sent them both a Howler for being irresponsible idiots over a bunch of flowers. George and Ron, of course, still found the whole thing hilarious, even a week later. 

 

Hermione was nodding in her new nursing chair with her feet up on the stool, Kiaria already fast asleep in her arms, when the fire roared with green fire and Draco stepped through. He smiled at her, a faint hint of the familiar smirk present, as he brushed loose ash from his attire.

 

“Well, well,” he drawled, “doesn't motherhood suit you?” He came over, placing a kiss on her forehead. “And doesn't she just take after her father?” he asked, gazing down at the snuffling baby.

 

“She is the spitting image, isn't she?” Hermione agreed. “Although I think she might follow in my footsteps with her hair. She almost has curls already!”

 

“She's gorgeous, sister,” he said settling in the seat opposite.

 

“Don't get too comfy,” she said, laughing at his confused expression. “There is no house elf here, little brother. You'll have to make your own drink, and I’ll have one while you’re up, please and thank you!”

 

“Oh Merlin... Woman, you are testing! I told you to take Gorky, for the time being, what with you needing to rest!”

 

“Rubbish, Mungo's is being far too worrisome. I feel fine!”

“I'll let your future husband take up that argument with you. Congratulations, by the way. It was meant to be.”

 

“Thank you,” she said with a happy blush. “It was quite an intense day all in all. Now, go make us a drink, I insist.”

 

“No need,” he replied, looking towards the kitchen archway with a smug grin.

 

Hermione glanced around as Gorky materialised quietly, carrying a tray laden with coffee and tea and a plate of biscuits.

 

“Here we go, Mistress,” the little elf declared. “Gorky is so pleased to be here to help while Mistress recovers! You won't have to lift a finger.” He happily poured some drinks, while Hermione glared at Draco's unrepentant smile, before almost skipping from the room.

 

“Why, you… you… You are a snake!” she said primly.

 

“Now now, Hermione. Gorky is over the moon, and think of it like this; now I'll have to make my own tea at home. Or make Roberts do it,” he added with a smirk.

 

“And how  _ is _ Darryl?” she said with a wide grin, seeing Draco's mouth twist with annoyance as he realised what was coming. “How did it happen? Who said something first? How? I want names, I want places, I want dates!” She kicked her feet gleefully, picking up the teacup and looking over the rim at Draco. “Spill!”

 

“Not a chance in hell am I giving you  _ any _ details!” he laughed. “Who knows, there might be Witch Weekly spies here, listening to everything we say! You know all you need to. I listened to you.”

 

“Eventually!” she interjected.

 

“Eventually,” he agreed, sipping his tea. “I listened, it happened. The end.”

 

“It's not the end, Draco. I'll find out, somehow!”

 

“Not if I have anything to do with it, woman!”

 

“Don't underestimate me, little brother! I have my ways…”

 

“Oh, don't you worry! I won't be assuming anything. I've learned more than enough about you these last years to never underestimate you again! Every time I think I know what you're about, you impress me again. Here, do you have a Pensieve handy?”

 

She nodded, confused. “On the shelf in Theo’s study. We invested in one, shortly after we started counselling. It's proved useful.” She watched as he jumped up and left the room.

 

“How about,” he said, coming back in with the miniaturised Pensieve in his hand, “I show you how impressed I was the day I found out all about your dark magic interests?”

 

She chuckled and nodded as he charmed the Pensieve to return to its normal size. “Okay, that could be fun.”

 

“I'll keep an eye on sleeping beauty here, while you watch.”

 

Hermione gave him a sly grin as he touched his wand to his temple. “Are you sure you wouldn't rather tell me all about the first time you and Darryl...?” 

 

“No, thank you,” he growled, retrieving the memory from his mind, and transferring it to the Pensieve.

 

Carefully Hermione transferred Kiaria into Draco's arms, smiling as his face immediately softened. Lowering her face to the liquid, she entered the memory.

 

Silvery mist swirled around her, and when it settled, she found herself in an unfamiliar apartment. It was neat and tidy, dark and light colours decorating the brightly lit room. She was so busy admiring the decor, she almost missed the owner walk right past her to open the front door.

 

It was hard to miss the swish of the blond who stalked in past her without a word, however, caked in mud and Quidditch gear. The owner followed his guest back into the room, shaking his head at the muddy footprints.

 

Hermione had rarely seen Darryl out of his Auror robes, and when she had, she was too preoccupied to take much notice. Here, in this memory, she had no distractions and was able to appreciate all that the younger man had to offer.

 

He was stylish and smart, even while dressed casually in pale chinos and brown belt with a white t-shirt and dark, open shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had an elegant style about him. The spacious flat matched its owner; style, elegance.

 

_ Mature _ , she thought. Roberts was mature beyond his years. Unlike the blond, who stood scowling at him, she realised, rolling her eyes.

 

“You forget how to play Quidditch, Malfoy?” Darryl asked dryly, a hint of tightness around his eyes as he gestured at the dirty footprints. “You're meant to stay in the air, not sit in the mud.”

 

“What are you playing at, Roberts?” Draco asked, ignoring the dig.

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Darryl smirked, taking a seat on his leather sofa.

 

Hermione watched him as he sprawled indolently. It was at this point she also noticed that young Roberts was also fairly well endowed; the material of the chinos left little to the imagination. She tried to look away, her cheeks flushing slightly, but noticed she wasn't the only one who had spotted this development.

 

“Last night!” Draco said, obviously trying not to look. “What was that? We've discussed this, and you won't leave it alone.”

 

“I haven't done anything, Draco.” His voice dropped, low and ever so slightly seductive. “I swear, you spend far too much time in your own head.”

 

She was enthralled by what was happening between the two men, realising that this was clearly the last thing Draco had meant to show her!

 

“Roberts, you are everywhere I turn. At work, at parties. Giving me  _ that _ look, last night. I mean, sweet Merlin, I can't....” He left the sentence unfinished, his hand running through his hair, a pained look on his face.

 

“What look, Draco? I don't recall treating you any different to anyone else?”

 

“Don't play dumb, Roberts. It doesn't suit you. You know very well what I'm referring to.” Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes taking in the room, looking anywhere but at the young man sprawled over the sofa.

 

“Maybe I do,” Darryl chuckled again, “but I want you to admit it. I want you to tell me you think of nothing else. That I haunt you in your every waking thought.”

 

“Why would I ever tell you that?” Draco said with a sneer. It didn't look as confident as it normally did though.

 

“Because that's what you do to me. Let's be honest; I fancy you. I've been upfront about it from the off. But you were the one who initiated that kiss, and I haven't been able to get that moment out of my mind since.”

 

“I don't think it was me, Roberts,” Malfoy snapped back, a blush rising to his cheeks making a lie of his vehement denial. He turned away, staring out of the nearby window.

 

“I know when you're lying, Draco. You've been doing it ever since that night. It happened, and then you backed off. The most intense kiss of my life, and then you wouldn't talk to me.” He stood up now, moving closer behind the blond. “What was it? Realised who and what I was? A Muggleborn? You couldn't possibly lower yourself to be with someone of my ilk, right? Muggleborn  _ and _ black? I mean I know you can be a dick... Hell, I've watched you be one for over a year, but I believed there was something better in you. When you accepted Hermione into your family, I thought it was incredibly noble. Forgoing all the heritage the Malfoy name stood for? Accepting that a Muggleborn could best you, and humbly stepping aside, even though your feelings for Theo were there. I thought you'd grown up.”

 

Draco swung around to face him, his mouth a tight line, but Roberts was in full swing now and wouldn't let him interrupt.

 

“But I guess not. Accepting Hermione into your family is one thing. Accepting a Muggleborn into your bed is quite another. I mean, seriously, you give me signals left, right, and centre, and then every time we get even mildly close to something, you lash out, back off. One kiss, and a massive cock tease ever since! I mean, seriously, what the hell  _ is _ your problem?”

 

Draco took a step closer, his pale face flushed, jaw clenched. “It has nothing to do with your skin colour, you little shit, nor your blood! I have the biggest Muggleborn nightmare  _ literally _ in my family now!”

 

“Rude!” Hermione sniffed, folding her arms over her chest.

 

“My issue with Hermione has not been based on that for years! She could turf me out of my own home. You think I'd allow that if I purely hated Muggleborns?” he raged.

 

“Well, if it's not either of those things, and we can agree you obviously don't hate me... That kiss didn't lie, Malfoy. So what the hell is it?” Roberts anger matching Draco's now, all the calm from before gone.

 

“You know what it is. I've told you before.”

 

“No, you haven't,” Darryl snapped. “You've never spoken about this! You've gone out of your way to avoid it!”

 

“It's obvious.”

 

Roberts stared at him, waiting him out, as Draco began to fidget. A moment passed.

 

“You're too young for me!”

 

Silence spread out in the room as the two men stared at each other. One adamant. One flabbergasted.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You  _ can't _ be serious? That's it?  _ That's _ the big reason?”

 

“I don't think you've ever sworn before, Darryl,” Draco said, surprised.

 

“ _ That's _ all you can say?!” the young man cried.

 

“It's what I think and feel! I can't change that.”

 

“You know what I think?” Darryl said, his voice suddenly calm. “You can see this could be something, and you're scared; scared of it being real.” He moved closer, invading the older man's personal space. “I can see it, see that you want me, want this. What is it you're scared of? It not working? People knowing? Afraid to give up your Witch Weekly crown?”

 

“Don't be ridiculous, Roberts.”

 

“About which one?”

 

“Any of it! Witch Weekly can go swivel. I'm a Malfoy! I don't care what people think.”

 

“Could have fooled me. You’re contradicting yourself.”

 

“You're twenty, and I'm twenty-nine. It's ridiculous! How can that ever work? We're at completely different stages of life!”

 

“It can work because, mentally, I'm twenty-nine, and you're still twenty. So, you know, it all averages itself out.”

 

Hermione sniggered at his cheeky grin and the scowl on Draco's face.

 

“You can't change my mind, Roberts. It is what it is. You deserve someone who will make you feel special, for it to mean something.”

 

“Draco, we do the same job, we appear now to have the same group of friends. All of whom do not treat me any different because of my age. Why on Earth do  _ you _ have a problem?”

 

“I just do.”

 

“How many men have you slept with?”

 

“What?” Draco asked. “Why does it matter?”

 

“Answer the question,” Roberts pushed, the gap between them decreasing once more.

 

“I… Look, I'm not sure you need to know…”

 

“Okay, so I'll take it by your awkward aversion to honesty that it's more than a few. So how many of those men did you love?”

 

“None.” He answered quickly; his first completely honest answer if Hermione was any judge.

 

“And how many of them made you feel like this?”

 

“Like what…” Draco said, but his words were stopped as Darryl’s lips found his.

 

“Oh my…” Hermione breathed.

 

Her eyes widened as Draco was pushed against the closest wall, knocking a small table over, his hands slipping around Darryl’s shoulders and fisting in the younger man’s shirt. Roberts kept Draco pinned to the wall, one hand gripping the blond hair. Draco’s previous reluctance seemed to have vanished, now an enthusiastic participant in the kiss.

 

It was rough, hard and hot.

 

The two men parted, one still exuding an air of calm, the other panting for breath, his grey eyes wild and full of passion.

 

Roberts moved fast, spinning Draco around to face the wall. Malfoy placed his hands against it to catch himself, grunting as Darryl’s fist gripped his hair, pulling his head back a little.

 

His other hand ghosting up and down Draco’s arm. “I told you, Draco,” he murmured in his ear, “I’m not like the other guys.” His mouth was pressing butterfly kisses to the long neck of his prey. “I can do things they couldn’t. You just have to let go, and you’ll see it's true.”

 

Malfoy’s breathing was hitching with every touch of the other man's lips to his skin. Hermione could almost see the turmoil.

 

Pushing back, he spun out of Darryl's grip, and before the young man could react, he was kissing him once more. His hands tugged at the dark shirt, dragging it off. They broke apart as Roberts lifted Draco’s Quidditch robes over his head. A moment of stillness followed as they each eyed each other.

“Let me help you across the line,” Roberts whispered, their hands clasped, tugging him towards another room.

The memory dragged Hermione along with the two men. She wasn't sure she actually  _ needed _ to see what was coming next, but it appeared she had little choice. And, if she was honest with herself, there was an element of curiosity.

 

She noted Robert's neat bedroom but realised this wasn't the final destination. She was pulled along by the invisible force of memory, stepping past clothes on the floor--she had passed both pairs of trousers and boxer shorts--into a small and compact ensuite.

 

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, and saw the two men in a heated clinch; pale skin against dark, and it was something to behold.

Draco was just marginally taller than his younger counterpart, but Hermione could already tell he wasn't the one in control here.

 

_ Oh, the irony _ , she thought with a chuckle.

 

She knew she shouldn't be looking, but it was hard not to! Both men were finely sculpted; Roberts appeared to have a lot of well-defined muscle he had been keeping hidden, Draco leaner but toned. They fit together perfectly, and she really couldn't understand her brother’s reluctance to let himself be happy.

 

The realisation hit her then: she was literally watching her brother getting hot and horny with another guy! She was staring at her brother’s arse! Before she had a chance to close her eyes, Darryl stepped away, into the shower. There, in all his naked glory, stood Draco Malfoy with a hungry look in his eyes, blatantly wanting more. Without her permission, her eyes flicked downwards, and then immediately up to the ceiling.

 

“Oh my God, I am going to hell,” she murmured, trying to remove the sight of Draco’s erect cock from her brain. As Draco joined Roberts in the shower, she spun around, trying to plug her ears, suddenly embarrassed. It seemed only a short moment later that the room around her swirled and she closed her eyes, scared of what she may find.

 

This was what she had demanded from Draco; all the details, name, places, dates... This wasn’t  _ quite _ what she’d had in mind, however, and she was struggling. She hadn’t thought of herself as voyeuristic, but there was this curiosity burning inside her, warring with the more reasonable side of her that was suggesting she simply  _ leave  _ the memory now; she had, after all, seen as much as she needed to...

 

Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she opened one eye; Draco was stood in front of her, his towel on the floor beside him, his bare backside facing her.

 

“Oh bloody hell,” she muttered, glancing away, straight into a mirror on the wall. She gave a funny squeak as she took in Darryl, lying on the bed in front of Malfoy, every single inch of him on display in the reflective surface. “Oh come on!” she grumbled. “I’m trying to be good and  _ not _ look!”

 

“And here was me thinking you were an innocent little virgin,” Draco said to Roberts with a laugh.

 

“I swear to God, you just make this shit up to make yourself feel better,” Roberts said.

“So much for being the innocent, well behaved, non-swearing Roberts,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

 

“I save my bad behaviour for the bedroom. Now get on this bed, you infuriating man! You haven't been treated to the main event yet. Personally, I think it might take us at least an hour or two…”

 

Draco walked towards the bed, and Hermione took an unconscious step forward too.

 

“If you’ve quite finished ogling my bare arse, Granger?”

 

She spun around, seeing an annoyed Draco--fully clothed, thankfully--behind her. “Oh, Draco… Hi!” She definitely did  _ not  _ glance down at his trousers.

 

“I suggest we exit this memory before you are corrupted any further. I’m not sure your eyes are ready to see what happened next…”

 

“Oh no, I want to stay!” she laughed.

 

“Let me rephrase,” Draco said with a glare, “I don't want your eyes to see what happened next!” He took hold of her arm and pulled. “Get out of my memory, you little pervert!”

 

~~~

 

“So,” Hermione said, looking up from Kiaria’s sleeping form, “what's the young stallion like in bed? Can you keep up, old man?”

 

“Oh Merlin! If you ask me anything more about my sex life, I'll curse you into oblivion! Didn’t you see enough?”

 

Hermione looked at Draco’s red face and started giggling so hard that she snorted her tea back out through her nose; she wasn’t sure why it had been so funny, but there was such a rush of joy flooding through her, she couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Oh, elegant, sister,” Draco drawled, holding out a napkin. “Are you telling me that Theo isn't enough of a man for you, that you need to hear about my sex life?”

 

She took the proffered napkin, wiping her face and wondering what had caused such elation in Theo that she had felt it so strongly. She was distracted from her musing as she noticed her giggles had disturbed Kiaria; the little girl was gearing up for a good cry, so she gently scooped her up and cradled her close.

 

“My sex life with Theo is just fine, thank you. We are…”

 

“I do not need to know,” Draco said, loudly, holding up a hand to stop her. “Unlike  _ you _ , I do not wish to know all the intimate details of other people’s bedroom antics. I'm sure my  _ niece _ does not need to hear what her nympho mother does to her father, either!”

 

Hermione smiled and passed Kiaria over to him as he gestured for her again. Holding the baby seemed, once more, to transform his normally reserved expression instantly; his eyes softened, and a little curve lifted the corner of his mouth.

 

“Kiaria is going to be the luckiest girl, surrounded by so many that love her,” Hermione said with a contented sigh.

 

“She’s alright, isn’t she,” he replied with a grin.

 

“Now, you certainly managed to distract me while Theo was away,” she said, then grinned at him. “Probably more so than you intended. I wonder where he is though?”

 

“Right here, Mina,” Theo said, stepping through the front door with a broad smile, his hair wet and plastered to his head, rainwater dripping from his coat. He took it off and hung it to dry as Hermione almost skipped across the room towards him and wrapped him in a hug.

 

“Why are you so cold?” she asked, resting her hand against the chilled skin of his cheek.

 

Theo ignored the question for the moment, kissing her on the lips and then moved to take Kiaria back from Draco. Hermione was distracted for a moment saying goodbye to Draco, but once the green fire had died down, she turned back to Theo.

 

“Where have you been?” she asked. “It’s a bright, sunny day outside, yet you’re cold and soaked through! And what  _ are  _ you so happy about?”

 

Theo smiled, kissing Kiaria on the forehead, then Hermione on the mouth.

 

“Just making peace with the past, my darling.”

 

~~~


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

It was the start of another hot day, and the small bird skipped across the dry stone of the patio, looking for water puddles left over from last night’s rain. The sun, not even clear of the horizon yet, caught on the white feathers on its head, the rest of the body a mid-grey.

 

Glancing around nervously, it lowered its beak to test the puddle in front of it. It was clear.

 

Thirstily it guzzled the water, lifting its head regularly to check the area was clear. It was nervous being so exposed, but it was early, and the occupants of the small island hadn’t woken up yet as far as it could tell. With gentle hops, it approached the building nearby; the humans had been eating outside last night, and there might be some scraps to forage.

 

As it cast about for anything suitable, the door to the little cottage creaked open, and one of the humans came bursting out, crawling rapidly on its hands and knees, yelling and shouting! The pigeon exploded into the air in a floundering, panicked flurry of wings, desperate to escape the monster bearing down on it.

 

“Kiaria! Come back here, you little terror!”

 

Hermione, dressed only in denim shorts and a brightly coloured shirt tied across her middle, her hair tied back in a messy tail, the dark locks significantly lighter and sunkissed, stepped across the threshold and scooped her little fugitive into the air. The little girl giggled and kicked as Hermione nuzzled her neck and blew raspberries on her.

 

Kiaria gasped and pointed in the direction the bird had flown off in. “Duck!” she declared.

 

“White-Crowned pigeon,” Hermione corrected the toddler. “Probably a bit advanced for a fourteen-month-old…”

 

“It’s like a duck,” came Theo’s voice from the door. “It spends more time in trees though.”

 

“You only ever tell her there’s one difference,” Hermione called with a laugh over her shoulder. “There was the giant pig that she called a dog, and you said it was  _ like _ a dog, but had a curly tail!”

 

“Perfectly valid,” Theo said, walking over, wearing only a pair of garishly coloured shorts. They smiled as Kiaria reached for him.

 

“And the capybara that she called a cat?” Hermione questioned as Theo scooped his daughter up. “You said it was like a cat, but  _ didn’t _ have a tail?”

 

“A capybara has no tail,” Theo said, reasonably.

 

“It’s also a giant rodent!”

 

“A  _ tailless _ rodent,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Good morning, Mrs Nott.”

 

“Good morning, Mister Nott. Another day in paradise?”

 

“Don't mind if I do!”

 

“We received a message from Harry this morning.”

 

“Really? Long way for an owl to come. London to Bonefish Cay… bet the poor fellow was exhausted.”

 

“Don’t be daft,” Hermione said with a grin, “it was a text message.”

 

“Ah, that makes more sense,” Theo said, pretending to nibble Kiaria’s fingers as she stroked his face. The little toddler giggled, and promptly stuck a finger up Theo’s nose, much to Hermione’s amusement. “So, did he get the job?”

 

She nodded with a bright smile. “Harry is now Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!”

 

“Excellent!” Theo cried, hugging her.

 

Kiaria gave a happy cry, her little arms in the air, then wriggled about to get down. Together they watched the little toddler take her wobbly steps towards the cottage, her arms outstretched to help her balance.

 

“So the ten-year plan is starting?” Theo asked

 

Hermione blew out her cheeks, trying to stop the giggles. “I can’t believe I'm actually going to do this…”

 

“You are the best person for the job, Mina. If anybody is going to drag this Ministry out of the Dark Ages, it’s you two.”

 

“With the help of at least one very generous supporter,” she said with a smile.

 

“I am your  _ biggest _ supporter.”

 

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind?”

 

“Of course! You know I don’t. I will be the best house-spouse you have ever seen. I mean, I already do the cooking and the cleaning, because you’re a secret mess… Ow! Don’t pinch!”

 

“I can do what I like, Mister Nott,” she said, digging her fingers into his ribs and making him shout. “You are looking at the future Minister of Magic!”

 

“Ah, but you’re not there yet, Mrs Nott!” Theo said, grabbing her wrists and pinning her against a nearby tree. He kissed her temple, nibbled her earlobe, and planted soft kisses all over her neck as she squealed and writhed, his stubble tickling her neck.

 

“Stop it!” she shrieked, giggling hysterically now. “Stop! I yield!”

 

There was a happy cry from beside them, and Kiaria grabbed both their legs. “And you, Lady Nugget!” Theo said, swooping her into the air as she giggled. “When your mummy is the boss of the world, you and I will be able to swan around town like we own the place!” He ignored Hermione’s glare. “She’s a Nott, but she’s also a  _ Malfoy _ , and so  _ we _ get to act like Uncle Draco used to…”

 

“Theo…”

 

“...and when people upset you, or there is literally  _ any _ minor inconvenience while you are at school, you can say things like, ‘my mother will hear about this!’, and everyone will let you do what you want…”

 

“Theo!”

 

Kiaria looked from one to the other, and back again, frowning. She looked at Theo’s grinning face and shook her head, sternly. Both adults burst into laughter.

 

“No?” Theo said, and Kiaria shook her head again. “Okay, fine, be a good nugget then.” He sniggered as she shook her head again. “Oh boy, you’re going to be trouble…”

 

“And  _ you _ ,” Hermione said, poking Theo in the ribs again, “stop filling her little head with bad habits.”

 

“Yes,  ma’am, Madam Minister!”

 

“You’re a cheeky bitch, Mister Nott,” she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips.

 

“Aww,” crooned Kiaria in Theo’s arms, stroking both their faces and causing more giggling.

 

Just then there was a piercing wail from the cottage.

 

“Uh oh,” Hermione said, as Kiaria gasped, “the little prince is awake!”

 

“Wha huzat?” Kiaria squeaked, pointing towards the little house, her eyes wide.

 

“That’s Thesius, finally awake, and probably wanting breakfast. Want to come with mummy?”

 

Kiaria shook her head, then held her arms up to Hermione, leaning forward.

 

“She’s a complicated mess of contradictions,” Theo laughed, passing the little girl over into Hermione’s care.

 

“Back in a bit, love,” she said, heading towards the cottage to feed their two-month-old son.

 

Alone for the moment, Theo pushed his hands into the pockets of his brightly coloured shorts and wandered towards the water’s edge. His bare feet sank into the soft wet sand, and he smiled as the warm water lapped at his toes.

 

He remembered another time, other waves, and a much darker location. He never had to go back there, never had to revisit that shore, or see that darkness again. Those that dwelled there were creatures of his past; his and Mina’s, his family’s. He had been there once, soon after Kiaria was born, to lay things to rest, and he remembered it now.

 

For the last time in his life, Theodore Nott thought about the past; the pain, and the torment. He viewed it dispassionately, allowing himself only one amused twitch of his lips. When he was done, he sighed and nodded to himself, turning away from the sea and heading towards the cottage: to his family, and the three people that gave his life more meaning than anything else.

 

He had always thought his work--his research--was the be all and end all, but with Kiaria’s birth he knew that she was so much more important; and when they fell pregnant again only a few months later, he knew that his growing family meant more to him than any research project he might ever conjure up.

 

He would take care of his house, he would love and support her in her run for the most important job in their world, and he would help raise their children. It was everything he would ever need or want.

 

Because, as he had told Hermione on that sunny day in June, thanks to what had happened on that dark, cold, and storm-lashed island a little over a year ago, he was free.

 

~~~

 

**_One Year Earlier_ **

 

“You look... good,” he lied, leaning back in the metal chair, feigning comfort: the chair was anything but comfortable, and seemed to have been designed for someone of a different shape entirely.

 

The figure opposite laughed, a low, rasping sound. “Well, thank you for saying so,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. “The food here is poor, but the staff are terrible. A veritable holiday camp.”

 

Theo gave a tight grin, casting a glance over the man’s shoulder to where one of the ‘staff’ waited in the shadows of the room. He quickly averted his eyes as the figure looked back at him. His eyes found the other man’s and felt a twinge of annoyance at the smirk on his face.

 

“Why are you here, Nott?” The man smiled widely, his teeth already showing signs of rot. Theo was sure he could smell the scent of it in the air. “I'm sure this isn't a social call. I don't get many of those.”

 

“With good reason, I'm sure.”

 

“Well, people tend to avoid this little island. It has an interesting past, you know?”

 

“I know. Not exactly pleasant reading. But I’m not here about history, other than to put you firmly in mine. I wanted to give you this.”

 

Theo pulled an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the steel table. With minimal movement, the man caught it under his fingers.

 

“And this is?”

 

“Proof you lost.”

 

The man's eye twitched, and for a split second Theo saw everything he wanted to see in those eyes: broken, scared, exhausted, but most of all defeated.

 

“I won't visit again. I don't think anyone will. If I were you, I'd pray for the moment when what's left of your mind finally snaps. Then you can exist in peaceful insensibility. But that should give you a headstart… or delay things… I really don’t know.”

 

Trembling fingers pulled at the edge of the envelope, shakily removing the photograph within.

 

“I guess the anger and despair it brings could extend your time here. With all that negativity flowing through you, they won't have as much to feed on.”

 

“No…” The man held the photo between rough fingers, crumpling it slightly. “This is a lie!” His lips quivered in anger, tears filling his eyes.

 

“You can keep that one,” Theo said, standing and pulling his coat on. “I have a better one, with  _ three _ people in it. I didn't want to give you a picture of Hermione, so you get to look at me, with our baby; the little girl you almost stopped from becoming a reality. She was touch and go for a while, but she takes after her mother. She's a fighter.”

 

The man screwed the photo up in his fist, bashing his head against the metal table.

 

“You forgot what I do, didn't you?” Theo leant over the table, ignoring the display, and lowered his voice. “I find ways to fix damage caused by dark magic, and your little family curse, compared to an Unforgivable, was a walk in the park! Enjoy what's left of your miserable existence knowing that you failed, Adrian. I’ll feel happy knowing that I let you live so you could experience this.”

 

He turned and walked away without another word.

 

“You get back here, Nott!” Pucey screamed, lunging to his feet. Chains sprang taut, stopping him from moving far. “I'll burn you for this. You'll never keep her! She's mine! She has always been mine!!”

 

Theo ignored him, walking as casually as he could by the Azkaban guards, as Pucey screamed himself hoarse behind him. He felt so buoyed, and light-hearted it was like he was a Patronus, and their evil presence couldn't touch him.

 

Stood on the rocky island outside once more, he watched the waves batter the shore. The salt air was cold and wet, and he was quickly soaked to the skin and shivering. Thunder muttered angrily in the distance, lightning flashing across the underside of the distant clouds.

 

But the storm was moving away, and the skies clearing. Sunshine peeked through to strike the ground in warm pools of liquid gold.

 

Theo laughed. He laughed harder and for longer than he had in a long time.

 

Hermione said that she had no desire to visit Adrian, or even hear his name again; her healing was done, and seeing him in Azkaban would add nothing to her life. Just knowing he was there, sentenced to life imprisonment, was enough.

 

For Theo, though, facing down Adrian, showing him how badly he had failed, had lifted the last lingering vestiges of fear from his mind. His catharsis was complete.

 

He finally felt completely free.

 

The echo of his laughter lingered in the air for a moment after he Disapparated. He returned to Hermione's side, hugging her tightly and holding their daughter in his arms.

 

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> From Nathaniel:  
> First off, before I thank you lovely readers, I want to say a massive thank you to a wonderful person, and all round amazing human being: Imtrouble is one of the best authors I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. She has been great fun to chat with, to bounce ideas off of, and to bring this monster of a tale screaming into the light of day. So, Lou, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!
> 
> Now, for you lot… If you have simply read it, or if you have left us kudos, if you have commented and maybe even squee’d a little during this story, then thank you. We’ve had a blast writing it, I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading it.
> 
> It may be a long time coming but we have already discussed another co-writing project, and tentatively planned to look at it some time next year. Keep your eyes peeled ;)
> 
> If you are on FB and want to chat or join my group, where I talk rubbish, discuss upcoming projects and so on, please drop me a line. I am Nathaniel Cardeu on FB and my group is called ‘Writing, Music, Weirdness: The Nathaniel Cardeu Story’.  
> Maybe see you there. Much love. NC
> 
> From Imtrouble:
> 
> Well, what a journey this has been!! This story started about 3 maybe even 4 years ago! And yet really only began to turn into what it is a year ago December! 
> 
> I don't think there has been many days this year where this story hasn't been worked on, discussed, edited, amended, broken and fixed by either myself or Nathaniel - it's been a journey that's for sure!
> 
> Through my amazing co-writer I found my ambition to write again and enjoy it!! And more than that we've found a friendship which I treasure! From the inane everyday chat to the in-depth discussions on how my muse has once again taken the fic in a new direction! As Nathaniel said, it's been an absolute pleasure!! Here's to our future works together…. There will be more!! 
> 
> And finally… our most important thank you is to our readers! For those who have been on the journey from the start and had the patience to finish it with us… you're amazing! Thank you!! And to those who find this fic when it's already completed - we hope we left you not able to put it down!!


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